The Color of Crimson
by Lady of Arundel
Summary: Depression, Dark Secrets, and Death Eaters place The Boy Who Lived in extreme danger. A response to the Severitus Challenge.
1. Crimson Summer

Q: What do you get when you mix a long time ff.net lurker with a fanfic challenge and Spring Break?  
  
A: A fanfic that has been written a thousand times before. (OK, maybe more like a hundred). Don't worry, I'll try to be at least a little creative..and if I fail at that, I'll just torture Harry some more, since we all adore HarryTorture (yes, one word).  
  
This is a response to Severitus' wonderful challenge. :-) This was begun (and put on hiatus) eons before OOTP, and I've yet to get the emotional fortitude to be able to reread Book 5 again to shift this into a post-OOTP universe, so pretend OOTP never happened. That said, elements and concepts from OOTP might appear as I edit the first 14 chapters and pick up the story.  
  
Oh, and Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is the property of J.K. Rowling. I'm just a poor college student.  
  
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The Color Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter One: Crimson Summer

Having been unceremoniously tossed face-first to the ground, Harry Potter felt rather than saw the violent slamming of the bedroom door and the metallic crash of the deadbolt sliding into place.  
  
Harry gasped in ragged breaths, dimly aware of the retreating footsteps of his uncle. He lay crumpled on the floor or countless minutes, eyes closed and jaw clenched tight as he took stock of his injuries. A dozen new slashes across his back, the old cracked rib or two, a growing bump on the back of his head, and a collection of already-purpling bruises vivid against fading bruises along his upper arms, torso, and legs. But nothing that could not be concealed by clothing and thus threaten the Dursley's carefully-crafted image of normalcy.  
  
It had been Uncle Vernon's last opportunity to properly discipline his nephew before those freaks whisked the boy away to that blasted school. Not that Uncle Vernon had wanted to send him back at all. A letter had arrived by owl, however, informing Vernon and Petunia that a professor would arrive in two days on the first to escort Harry to school. Having just put himself to the expense of securing the boy's room—new fortified bars for the window and a reinforced metal frame and lock for the door—and now further humiliated by having an owl sent to him in his own name (in daylight no less!), Uncle Vernon was positively livid. His plans to cure the boy once and for all dashed yet again, Vernon had made sure this final lesson of the summer holiday would not be quickly forgotten by his wayward charge.  
  
Harry braced a bloodied palm against the floor and slowly rolled onto his back, hissing softly as the stinging welts crisscrossing his back came into contact with the cool hardwood floor. He greedily gulped lungfuls of air, eyes still squeezed tight against the ceaseless waves of dizziness, and struggled against the urge to give in to the sweet whispering darkness of unconsciousness.  
  
Because he didn't deserve the release.

_I deserve this._  
  
He deserved the pain, deserved the hunger, deserved the overwhelming loneliness.  
  
He had earned every lash that rained down upon his tender black, every well- aimed kick to the shin or ribs, every crack of a frying pan or the Smelting's stick against the back of his skull.  
  
He deserved it all because Cedric couldn't feel pain anymore, his parents couldn't feel pain anymore, and Sirius and his friends felt entirely too much pain in their lives.  
  
All because of him.  
  
So what was a little bit of suffering on his part?  
  
Murderers deserved to suffer.  
  
After all, wasn't that what he was? His parents and Cedric had all died needlessly because of him; where others gave love and comfort in friendship he only brought fear and death. Wasn't Uncle Vernon right to punish Harry for constantly putting the Dursleys in danger? Wouldn't it be in the best interest of those he loved if he kept them all at arm's length?  
  
Harry struggled to his hands and knees biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood—_murderers did not deserve to cry out in pain_—and eventually dragged himself to the spartan bed in the corner of the room. Purposefully ignoring his wounds, Harry pulling a sheet over his body and stared at the ceiling with glazed eyes.  
  
Harry had not quite been prepared for this latest beating, having felt off since his birthday. It had started with a dull, persistent headache that throbbed at the back of his head, in time wrapping around his temples and pulsing hot behind his eyes. His stomach had come next—having long become accustomed to the ache of hunger these new stabbing pains and waves of nausea were something else entirely. Within the last week it had spread, until Harry could have sworn he could feel his very blood tingle with illness. This flu or sickness was not constant but came and went in bouts predictable only in their increasingly intensity. This morning the illness returned, his vision swimming and stomach rolling as he struggled through his daily chores. Chores which were interrupted, of course, by the arrival of a large brown barn owl carrying a scroll addressed to a Mr. Vernon Dursley.  
  
Harry didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, not now. A month or two earlier and he would have given anything to go back. Why did no one come when he cried, screamed for someone to help him? Why did no one notice the uncharacteristic coolness of his owl replies early on in the summer, or notice when the replies stopped coming altogether? Why was someone only coming when all Harry ever wanted was to curl up in the corner of his room, completely forgotten by muggle- and wizarding-worlds alike?  
  
Was he really only a tool to be fetched when needed and discarded when his purpose fulfilled?  
  
Wasn't he a living, emotional being who deserved, no, who needed to be held, comforted, loved?  
  
That there was his darkest thought, the impulse which made Harry give himself up willingly to Vernon's punishments. For while in those rare moments of clarity amid the waves of pain a small voice in the back of his mind reasoned that perhaps what happened to Cedric and the others could not be entirely his fault, that same voice fell silent and ashamed when Harry questioned why, in all his suffering, he had been sent away from all he held dear to suffer further.  
  
Who was he to question Dumbledore's wisdom, who was he to deny Sirius and Ron and Hermione and all the others the respite of security provided by his absence? How dare he, a murderer, dare be so ungrateful and selfish?  
  
Harry allowed his head to loll to the side, the stiff sheet cool against his fevered cheek. He clenched his eyes closed again, fighting against the tears of pain, fear, and loneliness threatening to spill from his treacherous eyes.  
  
TBC.


	2. Forgiveness in the Halls

A/N: I am SO proud of myself for posting this chapter so soon...especially since I started writing part one roughly this time last night. Since I am the kind of person who checks about 30 times a day to see if new parts of my favorite stories have been added (coughing in the general direction of such authors as Severitus (I mean, I adore A Father's Sin, but shouldn't An Old Man continue Meddling sometime soon?), Shadowphoenix, neutral, polaris and many, many others)...anyway, since I am a compulsive chapter-checker, I thought I would post this since I have it written (I'm even a chapter or two ahead!) and I might as well post quickly while I still can...  
  
Okay, the Remus/Severus conversation was supposed to be a paragraph, tops. What can I say, I love those two! And in my defense, it's a damn long way down to Sev's office, okay? (Why else do you think Ron and Harry are constantly late to Potions?)  
  
A few people have begged in the reviews or in emails to turn this into a slash or pre-slash story rather than father-son tale. Now, I admit that I adore the Severus/Harry couple (and death to SS/DM...although of course I read it...anything with my darling Severus)...so here's the compromise. Assuming I don't get too discouraged writing this story, when I'm done I'll write a SS/HP story starting with the same first chapter. Happy? I also must admit that I'm rather fond of the SS/RL pairing, and after rereading this chapter (and the next), my versions of Severus and Remus do seem to have some...history? So feel free to put in your two sickles about a little SS/RL...  
  
So here begins my slightly-different take on the Severitus challenge...which sort of smashes a few of the rules but hopefully will be slightly different as a result (at least I don't think something quite like this has been done...hopefully by the time I get around to revealing exactly what I'm up to it'll still be that way....).  
  
But seriously, thank you ALL for your wonderful, encouraging reviews. You all have warmed my little ol' HarryTorturing heart. :-)  
  
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is the property of J.K. Rowling. I am not J.K. Rowling. Got it?  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Remus Lupin swiftly picked his way through the ancient halls of Hogwarts, a hand absently assuring that the scrolls just given to him by the headmaster remained secured within his robes. His other hand ran through his grey- flecked brown hair, a nervous gesture gone unnoticed as Remus lost himself in a torrent of thoughts and emotions. His meeting with Albus had not gone as expected. Oh, sure, it had begun well enough. _'Remus, it's been too long! Might I interest you in a lemon drop, cup of tea?'_ and _'I can't thank you enough for agreeing to... If you don't mind, I have an errand or two I'd like to entrust to your...Wonderful, wonderful, I thought you would be pleased...'_ Remus indeed had been quite pleased that Albus had thought to trust him with such matters and had moved to take his leave when..._ 'Oh Remus, there's just one more matter we must discuss before you go...'_ Remus came to a halt as his thoughts caught up with him, the hand that had been running through his hair now over his face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Oh _gods_..."  
  
He really wasn't as surprised or as shocked as perhaps he should have been. Secretly he had always suspected something had been amiss, even all those years ago. He had never quite understood how it had all come about, it had always seemed a bit sudden and, well, he personally had simply never seen it coming. But he had kept those unsettling half-suspicions to himself, not wanting to encroach on the happiness of his closest friends.  
  
Remus leaned back against the rough stone wall to collect himself. He really wasn't shocked or upset— indeed, everything now began to make much more sense—as much as he felt...unsettled. Everything could change, and not necessarily for the better, if this wasn't handled correctly. If certain people weren't handled correctly.  
  
Remus groaned at that last line of thought. '_Sirius...oh, bloody, bloody hell...Sirius.'_ Remus gave himself a slight shake, gathering himself up both physically and mentally. He'd think about the particular obstacle, the one commonly known as Sirius Black, later. _'Much later...'_  
  
Remus blinked and glanced around, seeing his surroundings for the first time since leaving the headmaster's office. The main entrance to the dungeons. And where there were dungeons there was..."Snape," Remus groaned. Snape, who was at the center of the whole affair, really.  
  
"Well, well, if it isn't _Professor_ Lupin. If I didn't know better, I would think you were anything but overjoyed to see me. Or has the indefatigable optimist of Gryffindor finally grown up a little over the past year?"  
  
Remus closed his eyes briefly, stifling a groan as the silky voice rapidly approached from behind. He spun resolutely on his heel and lifted his chin to meet the Potion Master's glare. "Yes, I do believe you're the one I must thank for giving me the...opportunity...for character growth. I admit I suddenly found that had a lot of extra time on my hands for personal introspection," Remus challenged.  
  
Severus held his glare a moment before glancing aside. "I am painfully aware of that, Remus, and for that I apologize." Severus quickly brushed by the startled werewolf before he had even finished speaking.  
  
Remus chuckled lightly and followed Severus as he slunk down into his dungeons. "Do my ears deceive me or did the great Severus Snape just admit he was wrong?"  
  
"You better trust your werewolf ears because I will not be repeating myself," Severus ground out, not sparing the other professor a glance. Remus reached out and placed his hand on Severus's shoulder, stopping the Potions Master's descent.  
  
"I don't blame you, you know. I was angry and hurt at first, but then...maybe you were right." An ebony eyebrow arched. Remus licked his lips, "I mean, you were right that without the potion I posed a threat to the entire school. It was careless of me. Although how you went about it wasn't right. You shouldn't have told the Slytherins about me just because you were angry, it wasn't your place—"  
  
"I believe I've already been on the receiving end of this lecture once already from Headmaster Dumbledore, so if you'll excuse me..."Severus said dryly, trying to shrug off Remus's hand. Remus held fast.  
  
"I'm sorry, I know that...What I was _trying_ to say was that, while it took me a while, I understand why you did it. You were angry and you felt cheated. So what I'm trying to say," Remus tightened his grip as Severus again tried to pull away from his grasp, "is that I understand, and I don't blame you. I forgive you."  
  
Severus made a slight swallowing noise and Remus swore he caught a glimpse of something like wonder in those dark eyes before the Potions Master could slide his mask of indifference back into place. He snorted and drawled, "The forgiveness of a werewolf, I can now rest easy," finally wrenching himself free and hastening his step. Remus trotted after him.  
  
"You forget, Severus, that I've known you most of your life, I think I can see through the sarcasm by now." Remus caught up to the other man and looked at him appraisingly, offering a slight smile. "I think you might actually mean it. If you didn't want my forgiveness then why else did you beg Albus to offer me the DADA position this year?"  
  
The Potions Master's step faltered before quickening yet again. "I did _not_ beg."  
  
Remus smiled to himself but decided not to press the point—and his luck—farther. "Well thank you, regardless."  
  
The two progressed in silence until they reached the door to the Potions classroom. Disarming the wards on the door, Severus finally broke his silence. "Is there a reason you're following me like a lost puppy dog? If I am not mistaken, you were hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, not Potions, and I would—"  
  
"Albus told me, Severus."  
  
Something about Remus's tone stopped Severus cold. If it had been harsh, biting, or full of hatred, Severus could have easily dismissed the man without a thought. But gentle and compassionate and _knowing_? Staring straight ahead, Severus dropped his voice to an icy whisper. "Told you _what,_ exactly?"  
  
Remus stepped around the Potions Master and gently pushed open the door. "Why don't we continue this conversation inside..." he spoke softly.  
  
Swallowing, Severus mutely followed the werewolf into the darkened classroom.  
  
TBC... 


	3. Thoughts on the Stairs

A/N: I intended for Remus and Severus to continue their conversation but then Voldemort wanted in, I said no, he whined, so I had to scold him and send him to bed without supper...and then poor Harry looked so despondent sitting by himself on the stairs...  
  
Disclaimer: Still not mine.  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Three: Thoughts on the Stairs  
  
Harry sat perched at the top of the stairs, elbows propped on his knees and chin cradled between his palms.  
  
The young wizard had the house to himself. After the usual bout of ranting and berating at the breakfast table, Uncle Vernon had left for work as if nothing was out of the ordinary. If Harry didn't have the marks to prove otherwise, one might even believe that Mr. Dursley had completely forgotten that Harry would be leaving for school later that very day. Dudley had certainly not forgotten and was already in a panic at the prospect of another meeting with a fully-trained witch or wizard. Breakfast had taken longer than usual that morning as Dudley found himself confronting the vicious dilemma of how to eat breakfast while simultaneously sitting with his hands beneath him so as to cover his rear. In the end Aunt Petunia had resorted to lovingly spoon-feeding her son, casting angry glares in Harry's general direction at the sink all the while. Dudley had only grown more distressed as noon approached, and a distressed Dudley meant a frantic Petunia. It wasn't long before Petunia was dragging Dudley from the house, Harry catching something about shopping and freaks and "Mind yourself!" before the front door had slammed closed.  
  
Not that he minded.  
  
Much.  
  
Nervous fingers played with the fraying jumper cuff. The summer had been unusually hot and lingered still despite the change of the calendar to September. Nevertheless, after changing into uniform once his relatives had made their hasty exits, Harry had pulled on an oversized jumper as a precaution to hide the bruises along his arms and unnatural thinness of his frame from prying eyes. In a pained movement Harry drew his other forearm across his forehead, moping the fevered sweat from his brow. An added bonus of the addition to his wardrobe was that it provided a convenient excuse for his profuse sweating. Better to suffer this mystery illness alone he reasoned (he deserved it anyway), than to add to his guilt by burdening others with his own slight problems.  
  
As to _why_ Harry felt compelled to wear a heavy jumper on a summery day, well, he still had a while to work out an excuse.  
  
Aunt Petunia's precious grandfather clock struck ten. Two hours and a Hogwarts professor would arrive to bring him back to...Harry mentally shook himself, willing himself not to pursue thoughts of the unwanted inevitable.  
  
Or _was _it inevitable?  
  
What if, when the professor came at their convenience to collect Harry, what if Harry wasn't there to be collected?  
  
It was tempting. He would never have to go back and face the expectations, the accusations, the humiliations...if Harry stayed in the Muggle world, maybe he would never even have to face Voldemort again...Voldemort who had now returned, and all because of Harry.  
  
That led to the final reason why he no longer belonged at Hogwarts, no longer deserved to be at Hogwarts: wherever Harry went, people suffered.  
  
There were the most obvious of Harry's victims: his mother, his father, Cedric. But there were more. How many times had his friendship placed Ron and Hermione in grave danger, all because he was selfish and wanted—needed—them by him. Because of their association with him, the Weasleys had to place extra safety wards on the Burrow. Because of him, Sirius was constantly putting himself in danger of getting caught by the ministry. He wiped his damp forehead.  
  
"Sirius..."  
  
He actually had no idea where Sirius was. The last time he had seen his godfather was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts after...after. Since then there had been no news, no owls, not a word. The only assurance Harry had that Sirius was unharmed was the assumption that if something had happened either Ron of Hermione—most likely Ron—would have let something slip in an owl...Not that he had really heard from them in the last few months, either.  
  
And it hurt that they didn't care. He immediately scolded himself, of course. How dare he have the nerve to expect Sirius to waste his valuable time on him when Sirius had far more important things to do—didn't Harry himself hear Dumbledore charge Sirius with important tasks in the name of cleaning up the mess Harry made? As for his friends, only a week or two into the holiday Harry had received a shyly-composed note from Ron saying it had been decided that it would be best for Hermione to stay at the Burrow for the summer—the headmaster, of course, had forbidden Harry from joining them. It seemed that his two best friends had finally realized what everyone else had known for ages. And Harry was happy for them, truly, but he couldn't help but fear with regret that the days of the trio were over. But, he mused, that was probably for the best...  
  
Yes, it would be for the best for everyone if Harry quietly slipped out of their lives. After everything they had done for him over the last four years, didn't he owe them all a chance at peace and happiness? And maybe if Voldemort didn't see Harry as a threat, maybe fewer people would lose their lives...  
  
Harry slowly stood on unsteady feet and began to make his way down the stairs. Yes, for once he would do the right thing and would stay behind, stay to take his well-earned punishments from Uncle Vernon and stay so that his loved ones would be free to live their own lives. So he would hide himself just long enough for Dumbledore's messenger to glance around and leave; Harry might even have enough time to finish his chores before his relatives returned. Today would be the beginning of his new life as a Muggle. For once Uncle Vernon would be proud of him...  
  
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Harry faltered for a moment. When they found him out, when those in the wizarding world discovered that he had chosen to run away rather than fight, Dumbledore and the others would be so disappointed in him. Harry leaned against the banister. So disappointed in him for betraying everything that Gryffindor and the Light stood for that they probably wouldn't want him at Hogwarts anyway.  
  
Wasn't that what he wanted?  
  
If Harry stayed in the Muggle world, there would be no more fame, he would be a nobody...which is what he really was, after all. That was the lesson Uncle Vernon had been trying to teach him all these years, the lesson Snape had tried to teach him the last few years. If he stayed he would be forgotten.  
  
Wasn't that also what he wanted?  
  
Hadn't they all forgotten him already?  
  
Making his way to his cupboard, Harry knew he should be ashamed of himself. What kind of Gryffindor ran away from his problems rather than confronting them? What kind of Gryffindor would harbor such shameful thoughts about his friends and elders?  
  
A lonely, hurt, and depressed boy who felt abandoned by those he loved. Rightfully abandoned, but that did little to east the pain.  
  
Harry undid the latch to the cupboard door, gently kneeling in front of his school trunk.  
  
TBC... 


	4. A Matter of Judgement

I'm sitting here watching Magnolia as I type and the scene early on where Tom Cruise, with his – dare I say – largeish nose and shoulder-length black hair, is strutting around ("Respect the…")…all I can think of is our favorite Slytherin Sex God. :-) I have to admit I'd still take beloved Alan Rickman any day…(I saw him perform live in London…good GOD….he sang, he danced, he threw things, he laughed, he cried…I was a puddle.)  
  
Now, time for a little hybridization of the challenge conversation…more of it shall appear later on…oh, and I'm sure this goes without saying, but (hopefully) this conversation creates as many questions as it answers…just trust in me that the loose ends are intentionally left…loose.  
  
Thank you all for your incredibly supportive reviews!! :-) As soon as I finish with this horrid paper for class (East German intellectuals and individuality/dissidence) I will start posting individual notes if I can. :- )  
  
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. Which is a good thing, because with the cliffhanger I just left at the end of chapter five you might all kill me, and then you'd never get to read the last three real books…and then where would you all be?  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Four: A Matter of Judgement  
  
  
  
"I asked you a question." Severus leaned back against the classroom door, arms crossed.  
  
"This isn't a discussion to be had in the open halls of Hogwarts. But you know that, or else you wouldn't be trying to stall." Lupin drew his wand from his robes and cast a series of silencing and locking charms. Severus pursed his lips, an eyebrow dipping in consideration. "So it's to be one of those conversations."  
  
Sitting on one of the desks Remus silently appraised the brooding man. "Yes, it is."  
  
Severus pushed himself away from the door and veritably glided over to his own desk. "I ask you again," he ground out. "What. Did. Albus. Tell. You?" Of course, Severus was already fairly certain what had been said, but on the off chance…  
  
"The truth."  
  
A pause. "For someone who chased me down here and harassed me into having this conversation, stealing my last few moments of peace before the onslaught," a slight wave of a pale hand in the general direction of the castle proper, "you're suddenly irritatingly evasive." Severus turned to make his way to his chair.  
  
"Oh come off it, you know precisely what I'm talking about," Remus snapped before taking a breath, flattening his palms against his thighs. "Look, I'm not here to argue or accuse or…I'm just not. I just want to know…what Albus didn't say…what-"  
  
"Oh get on with it!"  
  
"Does he know? Have you told him?"  
  
"Well, if Albus told *you* then there's a decent chance that Albus knows, Remus, -"  
  
"Severus…"  
  
"Told who what? I haven't the slightest idea what you're on about…" Severus growled, but was cut off by a sharply-returned gaze from Remus.  
  
"Oh now who's being evasive. You know very well who and what I mean. It's been fifteen years…he has a right to know. He has a right to know you."  
  
Severus spun, something like harsh laughter rumbling deep in his throat. "Know me?! Have I *told* him? You honestly think I would *ever* tell him?"  
  
Remus swiftly slid off the desk and stepped up to Severus, latching tightly onto the Potion Master's shoulder. Remus searched the other man's eyes, his own expression shifting between concern and disbelief. "Why wouldn't you tell him, Severus? He could have grown up without all the lies…"  
  
Severus blinked away from Remus's gaze, speaking softly. "Maybe once, but not anymore…"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, werewolf, that while maybe once that could have been possible, it is not anymore."  
  
"Severus…" Remus knew that Severus only resorted to the litany of werewolf insults when the conversation veered into painful territory. What once had been an insult had also once been a friendly barb, and while Remus no longer knew exactly where he stood with the Potions Master, the discussion en route to the dungeons would favor the guess that the gibe was more diversionary in intent. Remus eased himself onto the edge of Severus's desk.  
  
The man in question sunk into his chair and stared at a darkened corner of the classroom. "It wasn't supposed to be permanent, you know." Severus raised his eyes to Remus's before glancing away again. "A temporary solution, Albus had said. Temporary…" Severus snorted and shook his head.  
  
"Albus couldn't have known, how could he? You couldn't have known either. You both did what you thought would be for the best, for them, for the Light…but after, why didn't you take Harry after?"  
  
Severus stood abruptly and began to pace the room. "There was no after, don't you see? As long as there was the slightest possibility that the Dark Lord could return the safest place for him was with Petunia. Not with me."  
  
"But you can still tell him, you've GOT to tell him! Things have changed, he no longer has the safety that anonymity among the muggles provided. He'll probably find out on his own eventually, and just imaging what a mess that would be…"  
  
"Not anymore of one than if I WERE to tell him. Can you imagine what would happen were he to know? ME?! His FATHER?! You can't honestly expect that he'd be happy in the least. I am not the type of person that can be a father."  
  
"Oh, so that's it…"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You don't think you're worthy…"  
  
Severus glared at Remus incredulously. "I'll be astounded if you can think of anyone LESS worthy. I was a Death Eater, Remus, I've done more evil than I can rightly remember…I'm not worthy of being ANYONE'S parent, never mind of the bloody Boy Who Lived. Besides," and this final admission came with a drop in his voice, "I wouldn't even know how."  
  
"Severus," Remus said quietly, "He's the Boy Who Lived because of you, he lived BECAUSE he's your son…"  
  
"His life was in danger because of me in the first place. Because of me," Severus's pacing was growing angrier by the second, "Because of *me* Lily is dead."  
  
Remus leaned back. 'So that is what this is about,' he mused. Not that he was surprised in the least. It was only natural that… But now was neither the time nor the place to pursue that line of thought. Not when Severus would have to deal with a school-full of children in a few hours. Remus chose his next words carefully to redirect the conversation. "Do you honestly believe he would find you unworthy to be his father?"  
  
"Remus, how else do you think he would feel? You obviously have taken a liking to him, and he to you – you have to know how much the ethos of James- bloody-Potter means to him! What do you think it would do to him if he were to discover that his real father was a murderer? A conscienceless follower of the Dark Lord?"  
  
"You know full well you've never been either, Severus," Remus interrupted, "Albus explained -"  
  
"The hell with what Albus explained, even the great Albus Dumbledore cannot alter the things I've done. And regardless, what would it do to Harry to know his real father was the cruel, bitter teacher hated by the entire school? It would break him, I've no doubt that it would."  
  
"Then that just proves that you need to get to know him."  
  
"Why, whatever do you mean?"  
  
Remus bit his lip. He had heard rumors about the muggles Harry lived with, but had nothing in the way of proof to support those rumors. Better not to further upset Severus needlessly. "Harry is one of the most loving, compassionate people I have ever known. I assure you he would want you in his life."  
  
Severus seemed skeptical but remained silent. His pacing, however, slowed to a slightly less agitated level. Neither spoke further for a minute or two.  
  
"Tell me…why ARE you always on his case?"  
  
Severus jerked his head up, having been lost deep in his own thoughts. "Pardon?"  
  
"Why is it that you always single him out for ridicule?"  
  
A sneer flickered across Severus's features, and for a moment Remus thought he wasn't going to answer. "Simple." Severus had regained some control over his emotions, cool indifference slipping back into his voice. "To teach him a lesson. Everyone else here, you included, tend to treat him like some high-and-mighty savior of the wizarding world. Half of the people – MOST of the people – who claim to be his friends would turn on him in an instant if his 'heroic' image were to be tarnished. Have turned on him in an instant, if memory serves...He's got to learn to fend for himself out there, one way or another. If I don't break him of the spoiled lifestyle he probably enjoys at home, who will? You? Dumbledore? I highly doubt it."  
  
Remus swallowed. 'I wouldn't be so sure about the 'spoiled lifestyle', not if what I suspect were true…' But again instead of following that line of thought Remus remarked, "That's what I thought. That's the parenting instinct, Severus. While I might not exactly agree with your…methods…that's what being a parent is about."  
  
Remus received a sharp glare but no further protest, the Potions Master once again mired in his own thoughts as he paced the classroom.  
  
Remus slid off the desk, drawing himself up to his full height, considering Severus for a moment. 'Well, I've come this far with my head still attached…' The werewolf licked his lips.  
  
"Would you like to come along?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Would you like to come along. Dumbledore asked me to go and fetch him, you know. I'm leaving now and you could…" Remus halted and glanced up at the Potions Master. That same Potions Master whose eyebrows were currently arching for the stratosphere.  
  
It really was a miracle that Remus still had his head.  
  
"Right then, I just thought I'd ask." Remus adjusted his robes and dispelled the wards he had placed on the classroom. He opened the door and turned back to face Severus. "I'll be off, then."  
  
Severus shrugged in a gesture that would have otherwise been called indifferent if it weren't for the pensive draw to the darker man's face and the troubled flicker in his burning eyes. "Then be *off*!" he bit out.  
  
The door to the Potions classroom softly swept closed, leaving Severus alone to his thoughts.  
  
TBC… 


	5. Fragments in Crimson

Author's a moron: EEP! I just discovered I'm a moron and never unchecked the allow anonymous review box…but I now have. :-) That said, if you leave an unsigned review and would like an email when I update just leave your email address. :-)  
  
A/N: Arg, yes, I know, this is incredibly late in coming…school started up again this week and I had midterms and a nasty tutorial paper due so I had to get those out of the way first. I like to try to stay at least one chapter ahead, and especially so after this chapter…you'll see what I mean.  
  
A/N 2: Teehee, I was going for a little fragmentation for this chapter….basically, I knew where I wanted to end (because I'm a cruel person), and had to try to get this chapter to a barely-acceptable length…so forgive me if it's a bit slow for the most part. I did throw in a couple hints to keep you occupied until the end… :-) But I will say that in the process of trying to write this stupid chapter my plot bunnies started mutating and multiplying like mad…insert evil Voldemort-esque laugh. Oh, speaking of everyone's favorite Dark Lord, I'm finally letting Voldemort come out and play…like I said, he was dying to jump into chapter three but that chapter was already running long (well, long for my writing-chapters- between-writing-papers-for-classes standard) and I needed filler here, so…yeah. But it's important, I swear! Oh, and as for Remus…there have been too many 1970s cold war spy movies playing on tv…and I swear, Dumbledore is not an alcoholic. It's just a diversionary tactic. It's pumpkin juice or something that he's constantly sipping. Um, yeah. Right.  
  
Many ***heartfelt thanks*** to everyone who has reviewed…I'm absolutely stunned that people are bothering to read this! I'm going to try and write individual responses as soon as I finish up the next chapter…I trust after you finish reading this chapter you'd prefer I work on the next part rather than replies…  
  
Disclaimer: Ain't mine.  
  
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– ––––––––––––––  
  
The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Five: Fragments in Crimson  
  
  
  
"M-M-Master…?"  
  
The figure swathed in black sat regally in the high-backed chair. He pressed his fingertips together and narrowed his eyes at the intruder.  
  
"Speak."  
  
The crumpled, nervous man stumbled into the room, sinking to his knees. "Y- you w-wanted to know, s-since It be-began, sh-should there be –"  
  
Steepled fingers clenched into angered fists. "I said, speak!"  
  
"S-s-sorry, Master. Our s-spies report an-an opportunity h-has arisen…they have b-been care-careless…"  
  
A fist relaxed and lowered to the arm of the chair, elongated, bony fingers idly caressing the wand balanced there.  
  
"Excellent. Instruct Lucius to proceed."  
  
* - * - * - * - *  
  
A cursory search of the house revealed the owner was not at home. He knew Arabella to run errands around midday so Remus was not overly concerned by her absence. Returning to the fireplace he drew his wand and tapped the brick three down and four over from the right. Recognizing the magical signature of his wand, the brick slid out of place to expose a hidden compartment half filled with an assortment of scrolls. He exchanged the scrolls with those in his jacket pocket, quickly resealing the nook and replacing his wand.  
  
Seeing as he was not expected at the Dursley's for another half hour Remus settled into a chair and perused the new scrolls. The top scrap of parchment confirmed that Arabella had just stepped out for an hour or two and he quickly set the note aside, turning his attention to the main bulk of parchments. Taking up the first scroll, he slid off the ring usually worn on his right ring finger and pressed the seal of the ring to the crimson wax seal on the scroll. The scroll immediately unfurled and Remus leaned back into the chair as he skimmed the letter's contents.  
  
* - * - * - * - *  
  
Having spent the last few minutes berating himself for the selfish foolishness of trying to hide from a Hogwarts professor, Harry was just about to ease himself out of his hiding place when he heard a series of faint pops followed by a crash emanating from the other side of the front door.  
  
It couldn't *possibly* be noon already.  
  
Also, wasn't there only one person coming to collect him? Not several?  
  
Harry painfully eased himself back into the cramped space between his trunk and the under-supports of the stairs, wrapping his invisibility cloak tighter around his frail form. He closed his eyes and pressed his burning forehead against the cool cement of the wall, trying to will away the eerie sensation that his very blood was on fire and fervently hoping that whatever or whoever was outside trying to break into the house would not succeed.  
  
* - * - * - * - *  
  
At quarter of, Severus finally emerged from the dungeons. Lunch would be the last meal he would be able to enjoy in the Great Hall in relative quiet for a good eight months or so and he would be damned to let the opportunity slip. Entering the hall he noted the absence of the good majority of his colleagues. Albus, however, was present and already calling Severus's name as he drew a bejeweled goblet to his lips.  
  
"Severus, my boy, do come and join me!" Albus beckoned to the professor and Severus dutifully took the chair to his right. "It seems as though most of the others have been detained….last minute preparations for the new year, no doubt." The headmaster smiled impishly. "Of course I knew I could count on you to be on task."  
  
"Thank you, Sir," Severus smoothed his robes absently. He dropped his voice slightly, leaning to his left. "On that, Albus, you should know that I have the year's lessons plans for each level prepared, as we discussed. You will have them by the feast tonight."  
  
Albus drew another sip from the goblet, considering a moment. "Do you still think it wise to teach this year? After the events of this summer –"  
  
Severus angrily flattened a palm on the table. "Yes, Albus, I do. I have made my sacrifices. I will no longer let Him alter my life!"  
  
"Yes, yes, I know you feel that way. I only wanted to make sure." Another pause to sip as the headmaster gathered his thoughts. "Matters might very well become more difficult this year because of…" Albus gave Severus a meaningful glance. "Yes, well, I'm just concerned for your safety." A fatherly smile. "I couldn't bear seeing you put in harm's way again…"  
  
This was a conversation already had five times over, and Severus had no intention of rehashing the past. He had more pressing concerns at the moment. He paused a moment before speaking.  
  
"It must have been thoughts of my safety that made you chose Lupin rather than Black this morning. I had a most disconcerting discussion with your Defense Professor, Headmaster, and I believe it is to you I owe my thanks."  
  
The headmaster hazarded a quick glance at the Potions Master. Suddenly, the plates before them conveniently chose that moment to fill with food. Severus was not to be deterred.  
  
"You did not feel that I should be a present for such a conversation?"  
  
Blue eyes twinkled slightly. "If I had asked, would you have come?"  
  
A sharp scowl.  
  
"I thought not."  
  
"Still, I would have appreciated the opportunity to have turned you down," Severus remarked darkly. He respected the old man above all others, loved him dearly as a surrogate father, but he hated, he absolutely detested the man's inclination to make other people's decisions for them. It was irritating at best and at worst he felt used as though he were a tool at Albus's disposal. True, Severus mused, he had veritably presented himself as such, but others had not been given that choice. Indeed, Albus did the same to Harry frequently, and that thought sickened him…  
  
As if sensing the younger man's disquiet or perhaps detecting the trace of rancor in the otherwise light barb, Albus placed a weathered hand on Severus's hand and gazed at the man.  
  
"I do apologize, Severus. Truly I do. I shall not proceed in this matter without your permission."  
  
The Potions Master held his gaze for a moment and then glanced away, relatively contented. The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently.  
  
"We shall continue this discussion later. For now, enjoy your last meal of freedom," winked the headmaster.  
  
* - * - * - * - *  
  
Remus took to his feet, brow furrowed worriedly – some of the contents of the correspondence had been quite troubling indeed. Ensuring all the scrolls were tucked back safely in the confines of his muggle coat jacket he scribbled a note for Arabella before taking his leave.  
  
Gate locked smartly behind him, Remus strolled to the end of the street. As he rounded onto Privet Drive, Remus was distracted checking the time by his pocket watch so that it took an extra moment of two to register that he had easily passed by the point where the magical wards should have arrested him on the spot. When realization did hit, Remus jerked his head up, a feeling of terror wrapping around his heart as he looked up at 4 Privet Drive.  
  
And gasped.  
  
TBC… 


	6. Destruction and Dark Marks

A/N: Yes, you might all think you know where I'm going with the whole Sev/Lily/Harry thing, and for the most part I'm going there, but there is a twist…I just can't tell you, yet. :-) And I have no idea where the Minerva and Remus thing came from, but I liked it (and damnit, it might be the most original idea you're going to wring out of me, since at least I haven't seen it anywhere…)  
  
Oh, and I'm a moron and just realized yesterday that I had never bothered to uncheck the "No Anonymous Reviews" box…no wonder people have been emailing me. So, many sorries, and it's now unchecked to make your lives easier. :-) And thanks!!!  
  
And Severitus, I swear this is still Severus/Harry centered (as per the challenge)…it's just that Harry's, um, unavailable at the moment so Remus is stepping in for him. :-D  
  
Enjoy. :-)  
  
****************************************************************************  
  
The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Six: Destruction and Death Marks  
  
  
  
Remus stood frozen to the spot - heart, body, and mind clenched tightly by tendrils of fear and dread.  
  
"Oh gods," he breathed, "Harry…"  
  
The carefully manicured perfection of Privet Drive was rent asunder by gaping, smoking ruins interrupting an otherwise orderly line of identical houses. Number four had not been completely destroyed, it seemed the explosion or fire or whatever had occurred on the first floor near the front. The back and side walls and a good portion of the second floor and roof remained intact, it was just the front that was no more. Licks of hazy gray smoke drifted up from the ruined portion. And floating above…  
  
Floating above…the Dark Mark, sickening in its eerie green.  
  
Remus xouldn't prevent the sudden flood of memories…the scene before him was all too reminiscent of that terrible, horrible All Saints' Day all those years ago…the Death Mark – an arrogant act of presumption on You-Know- Who's part – still staining the sky above the ruins of Godric's Hollow, still smoldering despite the time elapsed since its destruction.  
  
Except it wasn't quite the same. Idly the portion of his mind struggling to function in the present noted the deafening silence. Shouldn't there be distressed Muggles scattered about to see what had happened? Shouldn't the Ministry already be at the scene? There should be chaos, not this heavy silence and stillness…  
  
Back then, the first time, there had been noise. A cacophony of barked orders, hushed whispers, wails of anguish, and shouted questions, all grotesquely set against a faint backdrop of fireworks, hooting owls, and distant celebrations.  
  
There had been noise because there had been people, people everywhere. Ministry officials from a dozen departments, mediwizards (too little too late), aurors, reporters…the faces all blurred. Albus had been there, of course he had been there…hadn't Albus been the one to send the Potters there in the first place, hiding them away in his cottage in Godric's Hollow where they should have been safe…would have been safe if it hadn't been for Peter…  
  
Yes, Dumbledore had been there, and with him Severus.  
  
*Severus* had been there.  
  
Funny how he had never remembered that before. But not all that surprising – he had been barely aware of anything at the time. Not to mention that he had vigilantly tried to block the memory of that day, those *months*, ever since.  
  
Yes, Severus had been there. Upon closer inspection of the memory Remus finally made the connection that the terrible howls of grief had belonged to Severus…The more he concentrated, Remus could recall Severus himself…a stricken, broken man crumpled in Dumbledore's tight embrace, the elder wizard quietly seeking to soothe the inconsolable man while blinking away tears of his own.  
  
In other circumstances it would be rather amusingly strange that Remus had forgotten – blocked? – such an poignant image, but Remus himself had not been in much better condition. Remus had borne his pain in a silence wrought by shock, rocked gently in the mothering arms of Minerva McGonagall.  
  
If he remembered anything from that day beside the Mark and the ruins it was Minerva. Minerva, who had come that morning with news that the Potters were dead and who then at his pleading brought him to Godric's Hollow. Minerva who, when it had become too much for him to bear, then returned her adoptive charge home and attempted to console him before being forced to leave for Surrey on business for Dumbledore.  
  
The otherwise-stern witch had always harbored a soft-spot for the young werewolf much in the way she now did for Harry; likewise, Remus had always considered his former head of house as a sort of second mother, a feeling which had only intensified upon the death of his true mother. McGonagall had played guardian to Remus since the beginning when, sensing her eleven year-old charge's fear and distress, she had accompanied Remus in animagus form each full moon throughout first year…thereby earning his trust and affection and, unwittingly, serving as the future inspiration for James, Sirius, and Peter.  
  
He had been so stricken with grief, quickly to be compounded by the news of Sirius and Peter later that day, that he would have completely ceased to function if it had not been for Minerva. So in all, it didn't astonish him greatly to have forgotten that Severus had been there that day. Not that in retrospect it didn't make sense…perhaps it was this morning's revelations that had finally wrenched the memory to the surface…  
  
Blinking rapidly Remus shook himself back into the present moment.  
  
Mouth suddenly dry, he struggled to swallow, a feat since it currently seemed obstructed by his heart – or was that his stomach? – which had chosen to leap into his throat. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe…  
  
While he had been safe in Arabella's home, contentedly sipping tea and perusing today's correspondence, Harry had been…  
  
*Harry.*  
  
The wizard mentally tried to prod himself into action. 'You don't know he was in there, maybe he left, maybe he escaped before…before…' Remus again swallowed shakily as he more successfully blocked renewed memories… 'If he's in there, he needs your help, Remus. Go and find Harry…'  
  
This last thought prompted him into action.  
  
Wand warily in hand Remus rushed to the ruined house. Fortunately, when whatever happened had occured the shards and chunks of wall, glass, and furniture had exploded outwardly rather than imploded inwardly, making Remus's hopeful task of rescue a little easier.  
  
Casting a charm which rolled the smoke away from the caster to a distance of a yard or so, Remus began to pick through the wreckage.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Harry, it's Professor Lupin. Can you hear me?"  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Passing fragments of what looked to have been the doorframe (remnants of the door scattered a good distance away) he called out again, panic quickly creeping into his voice, still to no reply. The smoke still rose heavily here and so Remus cast the dispersing spell again before lighting the tip of his wand with a hoarse whisper of "Lumos."  
  
Remus cautiously picked his way along the ruins until, somewhere around where the front hall met with what had been the living room, he stumbled over something unwieldy and black partially trapped beneath the collapsed wall. Regaining his bearings he hastily pushed aside the rubble.  
  
A death eater.  
  
Remus knelt and held his breath while feeling for a pulse. It was faint but was there and if he listened carefully his sensitive ears could make out the death eater's shallow breathing. The death eater obviously wasn't going anywhere, but Lupin cast a full-body bind and pocketed the wizard's wand as a precaution.  
  
Heart beating even wilder Remus stood back up to his full height and turned to face the main portion of what would have been the living room. Licking his parched lips and swallowing hard he charmed the smoke back yet again to reveal the midsection of the room.  
  
Scattered among the wreckage in a ragged half-circle lay four more death eaters, each apparently in the same condition as the first. Remus quickly called the four wands to him and cast Petrificus Totalus four more times.  
  
One final flick of his wand dispersed the smoke concealing the rest of the room.  
  
His search was over.  
  
Amid the remnants of what had been the parlor's corner, surrounded by the partial ring of fallen death eaters, lay Harry Potter, eyes closed and as still as death.  
  
TBC…  
  
**************************************************************************** ******************************  
  
A/N: Perhaps not quite what you were expecting? :-) And don't you love cliffhangers? I do.  
  
Thank you all SO much for reviewing, you all have warmed my little newbie heart…to get myself caught up I'll just answer specific questions for now…although I must thank Severitus especially for issuing the challenge and not minding how I mauled the original Remus/Severus conversation in chapter 4…  
  
Severus would also like to thank all those who were concerned about the state of his eyebrows in chapter four… :-)  
  
  
  
*Allocin, ch. 3: Yeah, Dumbledore is definitely not an innocent in this story…as for whether Harry's going to school, we'll just have to see…  
  
*Indiana jones, ch. 4: Never fear, the Harry-looks-like-James thing will be revealed in due time, it's part of the original challenge.  
  
*Lina Inverse the Dramata, ch. 4: Ha, yeah, not a slash…although that IS one twist to the Sev-is-Harry's-father plot that I haven't seen yet…it would be kinda a weird cross with all those Draco/Lucius stories out there…lol. I decided to write this first to respond to the challenge, since that's what got my lazy fingers in motion. But I'm toying with the idea of doing a HP/SS (one of my favorite couples, go fig) story starting with the same first chapter…if you're looking for some (poorly written…they're my first ever) HP/SS slash, I *have* written 2 pieces for the Severus Snape Fuh-Q Fest… :-D  
  
*Allocin, ch.5: Teehee…well, this chapter answered some of your questions….but you might not like my answers… 


	7. Inklings in Crimson

Hello all! I'm *SO* sorry this took so long, and with that mean cliffhanger as well…I just survived the week-and-a-half from Hell (among other things, I suddenly found myself stage managing a show on campus…which meant 6+ hour rehearsals every day that I hadn't been planning on – but the show is over now – woooohooo!).  
  
A/N at the end.  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are not mine…which is probably why it's so easy for me to torture them so.  
  
____________________________________________________________________________ _____________________________  
  
The Color of Crimson  
  
By: Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Seven: Inklings in Crimson  
  
  
  
Lunch had been a very brief affair, Severus anxious to be finished and gone by the time the meal officially commenced. Albus had excused himself as well and accompanied the Potions Master, much to Severus's chagrin. He felt on edge, had felt on edge since waking that morning, a feeling only worsened by his confrontation with Remus and veiled encounter with Albus. He simply was not in the mood. The pair reached the main entrance to the Dungeons and Severus slowed to take his leave.  
  
"Will you be joining me for tea this afternoon, Severus?"  
  
"If you don't mind, I do have a few details to attend to after all."  
  
Albus regarded the younger man for a moment before nodding. "Very well, Severus. Oh, and the lesson plans?"  
  
"I'll bring them up directly, I –"  
  
Severus suddenly doubled over, clutching his left forearm as a cry of pain was wrenched from his lips. He would have surely fallen if Albus hadn't reached his side in time, strong hands seizing Severus's collapsing form. The older wizard gently eased Severus to a half-sitting position, Severus cradled in his arms as Albus leaned back against the cold stone wall. Albus simply held the man he thought of as a son in silence, knowing from experience that Severus would be unable to give a coherent response until the spasms subsided. Still clutching Albus's robes, Severus after a length looked up into the eyes of his mentor, breath ragged and eyes wild.  
  
"Something has happened."  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
"Harry!"  
  
Within the space of a breath Remus had sprung across what was left of the room and now knelt beside Harry's still form.  
  
/Please don't be dead, don't be dead…/  
  
"Harry? Harry can you hear me?"  
  
Still nothing.  
  
Hands to slight – too slight – shoulders, shaking the boy gently…  
  
/Don't be dead, don't be dead, please don't be dead, please…/  
  
"Harry, I need you to wake up…"  
  
The terror that had seized him the moment he saw the destroyed house began to solidify and settle heavily in his stomach. He removed an unsteady hand and pressed trembling fingers to Harry's neck, praying, searching, seeking…  
  
The boy's skin felt on fire.  
  
But beneath the fever and the faint crackle of magic that seemed to dance across the too hot skin Remus felt a pulse. Slightly irregular, but it was there.  
  
Remus shakily exhaled and renewed his attempts to wake the boy, tightening his grip on the frail, limp form and shaking him with doubled resolve.  
  
"Please, Harry, wake up…it's Professor Lupin…you have to wake –"  
  
"Ahem."  
  
Remus froze, blood and body, mid-sentence at the sound of a throat being cleared directly behind him. He spun half-kneeling, half-crouching, placing himself between Harry and the sound's source.  
  
He found himself staring at the tip of an outstretched wand.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
A sharp pop broke the heavy silence.  
  
A solitary figure dressed in heavy black robes disapparated into the small open strip between a soaring wall of stone and the row of trees at the fringe of the dense forest. The figure leaned against the wall to catch his breath and compose himself before pressing onwards to the aged gate.  
  
/Interesting. Very, very interesting./  
  
The unmanned gate automatically opened upon recognition of his magical signature and the man broke into a purposeful stride towards the looming mansion – Malfoys never ran, after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Remus dared not move aside from imperceptibly tightening his grip on his own wand, having raised his own wand as he whirled to face the intruder.  
  
For a moment the two stared at each other, Remus still kneeling before a towering figure in black robes.  
  
"Professor Lupin, Sir?"  
  
Startled, Remus's eyes widened briefly before narrowing. He held his wand steady, on guard for the slightest opportunity to gain control of the situation. A moment more of the tense stand-off and the man suddenly stepped back, lowering his wand.  
  
"Professor Lupin? Bernard Basil, Sir, I'm the driver the Ministry sent o'er at yer request."  
  
Basil, Ministry, driver…yes, yes of course. He had requested a driver so that they could stop at Diagon Alley for Harry's school supplies before returning to Hogwarts.  
  
Remus slowly lowered his wand, but did not pocket it. He flicked his tongue across parched lips.  
  
"Basil, yes, yes, I did…" Remus turned back to Harry's still form and Basil stepped closer, wand held loosely at his side.  
  
"Merlin! What happened here?"  
  
"I…I'm not certain. He…Harry…the house…was like this when I got here. I just arrived myself." Remus swallowed and placed a hand on the boy's scorching forehead, brushing back wet, tangled black locks. /Was like this while I was at Arabella's, safe, while…/ Remus shook himself. "He won't wake up."  
  
Basil took another step and raised his wand arm and spoke before the shaken Defense professor had time to block the spell.  
  
"Ennervate."  
  
Remus sharply turned his apprehensive gaze from Basil to Harry at the sound of a sharp intake of breath. He temporarily pushed aside his unease and self-reprimands – for not having the presence of mind to remember a spell as elementary as Ennervate, among other things – and focused his entire being instead on Harry.  
  
The boy's eyes were still closed.  
  
"Harry? Can you hear me?"  
  
Still nothing.  
  
/Why didn't the spell work? Come on, come on, Harry…/  
  
He gently shook the boy's shoulder with his free hand.  
  
This at last elicited a response in the form of a faint, low moan.  
  
Remus's heart leapt.  
  
He shook the boy a little harder.  
  
"Harry, it's Professor Lupin, you need to open your eyes, open your eyes, Harry…"  
  
Harry moaned again, louder, but slowly his eyes fluttered open. Remus smiled weakly, again smoothing the boy's hair off his forehead.  
  
"That's a good boy, Harry. Can you sit up?"  
  
Dulled, pained green eyes gradually focused on Remus and faintly lit with recognition just before eyelids slid closed. Remus panicked.  
  
"No, Harry, you need to keep your eyes open, you need to stay awake – Harry!"  
  
Eyes drowsily opened again and Remus exhaled heavily.  
  
"Good boy. How badly are you hurt?" No response.  
  
"Can you sit up?" Again nothing. At least he was still awake.  
  
"I'm going to lift you, is that okay?" Not expecting a reply Remus carefully scooped the boy up in his arms, cradling him against his chest as Harry hissed in pain.  
  
"I'm sorry, Harry, but I need to get you to safety." Green eyes blinked but remained open and dazedly trained on the Professor.  
  
"Professor? Are yeh wanting me to drive yeh or should I take Mr. Potter while yeh stay and –" Remus had almost forgotten about Basil. He shook his head and began to pick his way out of the rubble, careful not to jostle his light - /too light/ - bundle.  
  
"No. I'll take Harry. I need you to contact the Ministry, anyone you can find. Aurors – these death eaters need to be taken into custody. I put them under petrificus totalis – they're alive but going to need medical attention from whatever..." Basil nodded.  
  
"Yeh sure yeh don't need me to –" Remus stopped as he reached the edge of the lawn.  
  
"No. Get the Ministry, Basil. I have a feeling something was done to the Muggles, it's far too quiet. Someone, anyone, should have arrived by now. Get help."  
  
As Remus hurried away from Number Four he glanced down to check his charge. Harry's face was contorted into a pained grimace, upper lip caught between his teeth as if to prevent himself from crying out. The professor tightened his grip on the boy and quickened his pace as much as he dared.  
  
"Just hold on, Harry. Hold on."  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Lucius braced himself against the floor, steeling himself against the tremors characteristic of the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse. He sensed his Master approach, but dared not look up.  
  
"No, Master, I know not what happened. The old man must have placed additional wards around that house that we were not aware of, our new spy's information must have been incomplete. I cannot think of any other plausible explanation for what I saw."  
  
Lucius raised himself to a kneeling position, head bowed and thankful for the mask that concealed the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
TBC….  
  
A/N: You didn't seriously think I'd kill Harry off, did ya? I was actually tempted (really, REALLY tempted…can you just IMAGINE the SnapeAngst?) …actually, the only real reason Harry is still alive is because since the beginning I've envisioned a scene that should be coming up soon, and it wouldn't exactly work if Harry was dead. I consoled my muse by assuring him (he looks like a mini version of Severus) that I can always kill someone off later. I *was* tempted to stop after Lucius's little bit, but I figured I've been overly cruel as of late.  
  
My, this is taking much longer than I thought it would…I've been a little distraught to see a fanfic or two pop up with some elements vaguely similar to what I've been setting up from the beginning, but I figured I should plug on ahead anyway. *shrug*  
  
I'm not that happy with this chapter, but I didn't feel I could safely just jump ahead…I've been tinkering with it but it absolutely refuses to improve itself. Ah well.  
  
*J.Lynn: Aww, thanks. I've been kind of nervous about the two slash fics…well aware that Visiting Hours is a bit ridiculous and, um, bad…glad you liked the Picnic story. :-) And very glad you like this one!  
  
*Atheis: It seems that every fandom I go to I quickly gain a reputation for being "Evil." Sheesh. Although I do freakishly have a tendency to get sorted into Slytherin…every time I pick up one of those Sorting Hat key chains or pick a house stone for the HP board game I get Slytherin…I'm a Gryffindor, really I am! :-) Anyway, hope this chapter helped cure the eye twitch a bit, lol…  
  
*Tidmag: Proper care for a death eater includes at least 3 doses of Cruciatus a day….  
  
*Nicky: Heh, I like the motherly Remus-Minerva relationship too…between those two, Albus and Severus, and other combinations, this seems to be developing into a story about family…who knew?  
  
*Quoth the Raven: Yeah, you missed the battle scene, but it'll probably make an appearance in flashback form…I just can't tell you what happened all at once, can I? How badly is he hurt? You'll just have to see…  
  
*Erin Finnlaith: Ha – that had to be one of the most complimentary reviews I've ever received…*points to keyboard* See? I am writing more!  
  
*Lady Foxfire: I dunno, maybe I should threaten to kill Harry if we don't get another installment of A Broken Child ASAP! It's almost been a month! Wormtail, the Ministry, and all will be explained. I will tell you that the Dursleys are all fine and dandy…well, that is, until they discover their house has been destroyed. That might not go over well with Vernon.  
  
*Ariana Deralte: Minerva would be too old for Remus but it's not that kind of relationship – more like a proxy mother-son sort of deal.  
  
*RJLL: *Whistles innocently.*  
  
*Allocin: Happy? He's not dead. (Yet.) Although like I said, the endless SnapeAngst should Harry die before he can reveal his identity to his son IS mighty tempting…I'm very glad you're hooked – I was addicted to Curse of Guilt. :-)  
  
*Prophetess of Hearts: I could end the chapter there because, like I told Atheis, I'm apparently Evil. I could have easily turned this into a cliffhanger but I behaved. This time.  
  
*Indiana Jones: Awww, *blush*. Thanks!! Thankfully I do have at least a rough outline in my head, or else this story would have been shot dead in the water by my unexpected interruption.  
  
*Terra: Wow, what a review!!! Yeah, this story is kind of a compilation of the things I like about Harry fics…it's keeping me entertained. I am well acquainted with Dark!Harry, and although I'm not at liberty to say whether or not he will be making an appearance in this fic, if he doesn't I could probably be easily persuaded into writing a Dark!Harry fic…  
  
*Von: Thanks, I think? :-) No really, thanks for reading despite the plot…teehee. There will be much more HarryTorture to come, don't worry.  
  
*Severitus: Speaking of a renegade author falling off the face of ff.net! I'll forgive you if you post more of YOUR deviously-wicked story ASAP! Yeah, the flashback and Remus-Minerva bits were my favorites, too. :-) Thanks!  
  
*Venus4282, Arabel, Silver*Chime, Luna Rose, Whome the Fox Goddess, Mary Potter, Kyohaku Celestiale Vespertina, Rowen Mafair, tolkeinite, Teigra, Saerry Snape, Maab, kat, Relle, and Diana Le Defonceur: thank you all so much and I hope you enjoyed the chapter…!!! 


	8. Smoke Signals

A/N: Sheesh, first all of you are freaking because I might have killed Harry, and now several of you are lobbying for Harry's death. And we all thought *I* was the Evil one.  
  
Ten points to the houses of each of you who noticed *the* line concerning Lucius. Never fear, he will definitely be back.  
  
Tonight's movie pondering is Gladiator…I don't really watch TV much (ever)…only when I periodically visit my parents at home and plop my laptop in front of the TV to write. Which I did this weekend. ANYWAY: Gladiator. I cower every time during Marcus Aurelius's death scene, shrieking, "YOU CAN'T KILL DUMBLEDORE!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" Ha: "..and bring an old man another blanket." And socks, please.  
  
I know, this isn't an exciting chapter, but it's important for later on…so indulge in this plot development bit. The action, and Harry, returns next chapter, which is already ¾ written.  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter 8: Smoke Signals  
  
  
  
"What?"  
  
Severus struggled to regain control over his breathing, trying to not hyperventilate and to block the pain and the energy and the memories and…  
  
Severus swallowed hard.  
  
"Something has happened." He pressed his eyes closed, willing himself to focus.  
  
Albus opened his mouth to question him further but stopped himself. Instead he gently pushed aside the trembling hand still clutching at Severus's left forearm and placed his own hand in its stead. Albus gently murmured an incantation, a localized pain relieving spell he had discovered through trial and error. He could feel the younger man go limp as the tension flowed from his body.  
  
"T-t-thank you."  
  
"Hush, Severus. Do you think you can stand? We need to get out of the hallway. My office?" The last bit wasn't so much a question as a gentle prodding. Severus nodded and stumbled to his feet, leaning against the older wizard as they worked their way to the Headmaster's office in relatively quick time. The dizzying effect of the moving stairs very nearly undid the efforts Severus had made en route to regain control. Albus gently herded the Potions Master into the nearest overstuffed chair and took another himself.  
  
"Why don't we take our tea a little early." Albus conjured a simmering pot and two cups.  
  
Severus blanched.  
  
"No, no tea, Sir. I don't think…" Despite his protests Severus found a steaming cup pressed into his hands. He wrapped his shaking hands around the cup for warmth but made no move to drink it. Small splashes of hot tea spilled from the cup but he didn't notice. Albus frowned.  
  
"Severus, child, can you tell me what happened?" Albus's frown deepened when Severus made no movement, continuing to stare into the contents of the cup. Albus's use of the endearment "child" had never before failed to elicit some form of protest from the Potions Master. The disquieting silence continued; Albus was beginning to reconsider his decision to bring Severus to his office rather than the hospital wing when the man in question quietly spoke.  
  
"I…I'm not sure. As you know, the pain was centered in the Dark Mark, but it wasn't a summons…" Severus still felt the periodic pain of the summons, even after this summer when…Severus stopped himself, refocusing his thoughts. "It wasn't Voldemort. I would know if it had been Voldemort's touch."  
  
Albus sipped his tea and waited for Severus to continue.  
  
"It wasn't one of the visions, either. I would know if it were…The pain was there but nothing else, only the pain." Overwhelming, excruciating… "Overwhelming pain, originating at the Dark Mark…" Severus lapsed into silence, again focused on the swirling liquid before him.  
  
"Has this happened before?" Severus quickly glanced up at his mentor and then tore his eyes away.  
  
"Not quite I…it…not with the death mark. But it was like when I was younger, when I…" Severus hesitated, almost as if out of nervousness. "Before the training."  
  
Albus's eyes widened momentarily. "But there should be no reason for…" Severus shook his head.  
  
Shadows of possible explanations began to form at the edges of Albus's mind but he let them be for the time being.  
  
"How are you feeling, child. Should I call for Poppy?" Severus shook his head again.  
  
"No, I just…if I can just sit here a moment more I –"  
  
Severus was interrupted again for the second time within the hour, fortunately this time not by waves of debilitating agony. Albus, who had been stirring his tea, also froze.  
  
Each man on his right ring finger wore a nearly identical ring, each consisting of a jewel set into an engraved band of gold. What appeared to be a delicate web of decorative carvings upon closer inspection appeared to be words engraved in a non-Latinate script. Albus's gem was a rich cerulean blue while Severus's was royal violet. Rather, those were the rings' normal respective colors.  
  
Both jewels were glowing.  
  
Sunshine yellow.  
  
Each had first noticed the rings because of the sudden spark of heat emitted from each ring. Albus was the first to note the change in color.  
  
"Remus."  
  
Severus tersely nodded, considering a moment before sharply pitching forward in the chair.  
  
"Harry."  
  
Before the Headmaster could respond Severus had leapt to his feet and had nearly made it to the stairs before he was halted by a firm hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Severus, you can't go." The Potions Master spun, confusion flitting across his features.  
  
"And why the bloody not?"  
  
"We don't know what has happened, you don't know who or what else you'll encounter once you reach them. Surely the death eaters have standing orders concerning your capture. I swore this summer that I would never send you into their hands again, Severus, and that's a promise I intend to keep. I'll go, you wait here for word."  
  
Severus snorted. "So instead I should let the great Albus Dumbledore endanger himself on my behalf. No, Sir, no. I'm expendable, you're not. No," Severus glared, cutting off the older wizard's protests, "you know it's true. I have to go."  
  
"Minerva-"  
  
"Minerva can't. You know that if…that you and I are the only ones who could…please, Albus." Albus stared into pleading black eyes. He sighed wearily.  
  
"Are you well enough to apparate?" Severus didn't bother to respond since both knew that the wizard seldom let small matters like health and safety get in his way. "Very well," he sighed, "Go. I will wait here and upon your signal I will lift the barriers on the floo system – the three of you are to floo directly to my office."  
  
"Thank you, Sir." Severus again made to leave but paused at the door, straightening his shoulders but not turning. "Bottom right hand drawer. Password is 'Firebolt.'"  
  
Albus eased himself into his chair. 'Bottom right hand drawer, bottom right hand –'  
  
Severus's emergency lesson plans.  
  
Drawn up should the Potions Master find himself unable to teach.  
  
Albus looked up to bid his child to stay safe, but Severus was already gone.  
  
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TBC…  
  
A/N: HA – see, I told you that Chapter 5 wasn't just filler even though it appeared to be at the time…  
  
*Sandrine Black: Heh, the "eep" factor. Probably not any eeps this chapter, but there will be more later on, never fear.  
  
*Atheis: Heh, this might make the eye twitch worse…for some reason everyone gets a little antsy when I shift the scene between chapters. :-) I'm not bashing Slytherin at all…apparently I'm a Slytherin, too. :-) Never fear, there's definitely going to be SnapeAngst…even if I do keep Harry alive to torture a bit more. Thank you!  
  
*J. Lynn: Hah, it's all about self-preservation. That, and knowledge of future cliffies ahead. :-)  
  
*Lady FoxFire: Yaaaay!!! Another chapter! Teeehee! Yeah, I know where Sirius is but I've been waiting for a good time to start working him in…he actually shows up in Chapter 9. As for what's up with Harry and where Wormtail is, I ain't tellin'!  
  
*Venus4280: I'm just going to smile evilly and knowingly in response your review. :-) Oh, and thank you very much.  
  
*kIM: Heh, an extra 5 points for being the first to comment about the Lucius line. He'll explain himself in due time. Sadly, the Dursleys aren't dead…they had all left the house for the day and left Harry behind by himself, which is important point...  
  
*Prophetess of Hearts: Hah! Well, can I have at least one leg back now?  
  
*RJLL: Lucius did indeed have something to do with the incident at Privet Drive...this chapter isn't really longer, but hopefully the next one won't take as long to post.  
  
*Arabwel: Heh, my Lucius is a scheming, conniving man. Keep that in mind. :- )  
  
*Indiana Jones and Ariana Deralte: Hopefully once exams are over my posts will grow in length and/or frequency…so just a few weeks more! And update!  
  
*Sev Rickman: evil laughter  
  
*Silver*Chime: Aww, thanks! :-) I've reworked the next few chapters from my original plan, and I think you'll like the changes. Sev and Harry will finally be in the same scene soon…  
  
*Allocin: Hey, posting for the sake of posting and writing is the reason to do it! :-) Curse of Guilt was a nice take on the usual Harry post-GOF guilt story (*blinks at own story and shrugs*). If you're not happy with it, rewrite! Yeah, I've also surpassed the number of chapters I've ever written for a fic…I actually created this name for the HP fandom to avoid angry readers in the West Wing fandom who are still waiting for a story that kind of died in the water January 2001…oops. I had that one all planned out but didn't write it down and forgot my innovative yet in-character plot resolution during the course of exams. Don't worry, I've made notes this time 'round!  
  
*Canary: Yeah, a couple people have suggested that…I very well might. That, or kill Harry off later (says the author nonchalantly). :-D  
  
*And to Saerry Snape, lulu, Luna Rose, Nicky, Phoenix, katrina, ratgirl, Relle, Lis, Natty, Mel, Anne Phoenix, and Seer of the Panther: Thank you all SO much, and hope you liked the chapter! 


	9. Worrying and Waiting

Disclaimer: Still not mine…  
  
A/N: Another fragmentary chapter…and just to avoid confusion, the first bit with Remus takes place at the same time as the previous chapter…you'll see what I mean. :-)  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Nine: Worrying and Waiting  
  
  
  
Remus burst through the door of Arabella Figg's home, clutching the now unconscious boy tightly to his chest. The painful jostling of their escape to safety had quickly proved too much for the poor child - Harry had fallen limp in Remus's arms by the time he had reached the end of Privet Drive.  
  
Pausing long enough to respell the wards on the door, Remus rushed through the main hall.  
  
"Arabella? Arabella!"  
  
There was no answering call, but he was not very surprised. He had only left the haven a mere thirty or forty minutes prior, and as of then Arabella had not yet returned. Entering the living room, Remus swiftly crossed the room and bent to one knee, carefully laying Harry on the sofa and gently rearranging slack limbs to make the boy comfortable. Harry shifted, moaning softly, but did not open his eyes.  
  
Remus stood and ran an unsteady hand through gray-flecked hair, turning his attention from the sickly child to their current situation. They would be safe at Arabella's, but not for long. He needed to get Harry to Hogwarts, where Dumbledore could protect him and Madame Pomphrey could see to him…  
  
Remus began to pace.  
  
Basil was on his way to alert the Ministry and soon, no doubt, the entire neighborhood would be flooded with witches and wizards. But could he really afford the risk of trusting the Ministry? Individuals, yes – Dumbledore had a good number of trusted contacts throughout the government. But the Dark Lord had many of his own positioned throughout the Ministry as well. Not to mention the problem posed by the Minister himself. Fudge still adamantly refused to acknowledge Voldemort's return, and as long as the Daily Prophet remained in his pocket, Dumbledore and his followers had been forced to continue their work for the Light in secret. In the last few months Fudge had gone out of his way to explain away and cover up all Dark Arts activity, lulling the wizarding world into a false sense of security just so he could retain his title. Merlin knows what Fudge would do were he to suddenly have The Boy Who Lived at his disposal…No, Remus would not entrust Harry's safety to the Ministry. He needed to contact Albus…  
  
'Focus, Remus, focus.'  
  
Remus drew the hand that had been nervously combing through his hair down across his face, and, as he did so, he felt the cool caress of a band of gold against his skin.  
  
"Of course!"  
  
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Hearing the flap of the post slot clink closed, Mundagus Fletcher looked up from his copy of the Daily Prophet to glance at his companion. The younger wizard made no indication of moving, remaining slumped over the arm of the armchair, eyes searching the sky through the open window.  
  
"Muggle post is here."  
  
A soft grunt.  
  
"Suppose I'll get that."  
  
His gaze lingered on his companion a moment more before setting the paper aside and taking to his feet. Mundagus absently drew his wand as he ambled into the main hall. With a flick of Mundagus's wrist and a mumbled incantation, the pile of letters lifted off the floor and lazily floated behind the wizard as he returned to the sitting room.  
  
Mundagus retook his seat, propping up his feet on the ottoman. The letters followed, levitating above his outstretched legs. Leaning his elbow against the arm of the chair and idly resting his cheek against his palm, Mundagus began to run through the standard series of screening and disarming spells on the mail. Satisfied that the post was clean, he removed the levitation spell and the mail dropped onto his lap. Mundagus slipped on his reading glasses and began to sort through the letters.  
  
His companion finally turned and cleared his throat.  
  
"Anything?"  
  
Mundagus peered over his glasses. "Not really. Mainly Muggle junk mail. A few pieces of interest from our contacts on the continent." He offered them for perusal but was sullenly waved off. Mundagus sighed and removed his glasses, folding them and slipping them back into his vest pocket.  
  
"Cheer up, Black, the train doesn't get there 'til nightfall anyway. Won't do any good to spend the day staring out the window. Why don't we grab lunch or –"  
  
"Not a word, not a word all summer. I owled him at least a dozen times…I know Arabella has said there hasn't been any Dark activity there, but…"  
  
"You should listen to Arabella. I'm sure there's a good reason why the boy hasn't written. Probably them Muggles he lives with, ya said yourself they don't like the boy gettin' and sendin' owls. The boy probably is just keeping out of trouble."  
  
Sirius nodded but sprang to his feet and began to pace erratically about the room.  
  
"I just hate feeling so useless, Fletch. Sitting around here all summer – no, no, I know, we've been doing important work, I know. But I wish we were out there, or at least closer to Harry…"  
  
"I know, Black." Mundagus stood. "But I don't think wearing Remus's carpet through will do anything. Come on, let's –"  
  
Mundagus was interrupted by a large brown barn owl sweeping through the window.  
  
The owl landed on the arm of one of the chairs and proffered its leg. Sirius quickly removed the scroll pressed the back of his right hand against the parchment, the onyx gem of his ring aligned with the wax seal.  
  
The scroll quickly unfurled to reveal the unmistakable handwriting of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
Sirius sank into the chair as he began to read the hastily-written note.  
  
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'Bloody Hell…'  
  
Severus stood stock-still in the middle of Privet Drive, a spot of calm amid chaos. He had forced himself to look away from what had been Number Four after only a moment, blinking away memories and pushing down the panic rising in his throat. Ministry officials and Aurors swarmed the little street, shouting orders, working to restore the house, and attempting to dispel the grinning Dark Mark hovering above. Mediwizards attended huddled groups of distressingly-passive Muggles, assessing them for evidence of dark curses before casting the Obliviate charm.  
  
Harry and Lupin were nowhere to be seen.  
  
Severus stumbled backwards a few steps, his presence concealed by the invisibility charm he had cast upon apparating to what should have been the edge of the protective wards. Although Remus and Harry were no longer at Four Privet Drive, Severus's ring still glowed a bright yellow, meaning Remus was still able to cast the beacon charm. Severus did not dare to cast a tracing charm, not wanting to inadvertently reveal their location to the Ministry or, heavens forbid, the Death Eaters.  
  
'Arabella's. They have to be at Arabella's.'  
  
He resolutely turned his back on the madness on Privet Drive, mentally bottling and setting aside the warring emotions and fears threatening to bubble over. He would have time enough to deal with them once Harry….once his *son*…was safe.  
  
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Several casts of the Cruciatus curse later, Lucius finally was allowed his leave and apparated directly to the main foyer of Yardley, the ancestral manor of the Malfoys.  
  
"Master Malfoy, Sir! Is Sirs well? Shoulds Gingy be getting Master his potions, Sir?"  
  
"Yes, Gingy." The blonde delicately removed his robe, which now looked rather worse for wear after the day's events. He absently cast it aside, the house elf dashing over to catch the robe just in time. "Has my wife yet returned?"  
  
Gingy shook her head vigorously, eyes wide. "No, Sirs. Mistress is stills away bringing Young Master to London, Sir."  
  
"Ah, yes." Lucius pursed his lips in something of a small smile. He had had time enough to see his son off to a new school year before leaving on his…mission. Lucius made his way along the hall, Gingy blindly scrambling after her Master, her vision blocked by the bulk of the discarded robe.  
  
"Surely, Gingy, you don't believe I plan on wearing that robe again. You may discard it." Elfen cheeks flushed and the robe vanished. Lucius stifled a chuckle. He normally detested house elves - that is, when he deemed to even consider them at all – but for some inexplicable reason he had always had a soft spot for Gingy. He knew he could trust her with some of his more delicate tasks.  
  
Lucius entered his study and paused behind his desk. He tilted his chin in the vague direction of the house elf, not bothering to turn to address her.  
  
"I am expecting company. See them to the east wing and attend to their needs, I expect some of my guests might find use for your knowledge in healing. Alert me once they are settled."  
  
"Yes, Sir! Gingy will attend to Master's guests, Sir!"  
  
Lucius sat in his armchair, drinking the goblet of potion that Gingy had made ready. Sighing, he relaxed into the chair as the potion worked away the residual tensions and spasms from the Cruciatus curse.  
  
"Oh, and Gingy? My wife has no need to know I have guests in the east wing. Do you understand, Gingy?"  
  
The house elf bobbed her head frantically and, after Lucius nodded her dismissal, vanished out of sight.  
  
Lucius propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers.  
  
He had much to consider.  
  
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TBC…  
  
A/N: My, that was definitely not where I had initially thought this chapter was going! :-) So I know I said Harry would be in this chapter (well, technically he was)…I *swear* that he's in the next chapter. Blame Sirius and Lucius!  
  
*Severitus: Plops crown on head and twirls scepter idly, in a perfect imitation of Bored!Voldemort. My, thank you very much. :-D And I didn't even think last chapter WAS a cliffhanger…perhaps I've built up a tolerance, or something. Heh heh heh heh…yeah, Harry's alive…for now…and SPEAKING OF CLIFFHANGERS…pokes Severitus with scepter, where's A Father's Sin? And An Old Man's Meddling? Huh? :-P  
  
*summersun: Don't worry, you'll find out all about Harry in due time…  
  
*J. Lynn: Well, I can't reveal *all* of my secrets at once, now can I? Don't worry, some things will start making more sense in a chapter or two…  
  
*RJLL: Yeah, not quite sure where the bit about the rings came from, much like most of this chapter, but I'm running with it. :-) The rings, too, will be explained eventually. Yup, I love caring!Snape too…and it's not just random out-of-chararcterness on my part, it is part of the overall plot…  
  
*Allocin: Thanks! :-) Heh, Voldie is most *certainly* not dead. He's alive and kicking (and cursing and plotting and…) Aside from the, like, 5 alternate stories I've half-promised, I've recently been assaulted by a new plot bunny….although I just realized I *could* incorporate it into this story…Hmm…that would be QUITE evil of me….heh heh heh….but never fear, I'm going to keep on with this story!  
  
*Prophetess of Hearts: Hah, thanks for the leg. This chapter was 50% longer than the last one…happy? :-D Teehee…  
  
*Sandrine Black: Harry and Sev will be in the next chapter, together, I promise! (Eeep?)  
  
*Sev Rickman: Ahh, "The Training." You're not supposed to have any idea what I'm talking about, yet…I'm purposefully being vague. :-) T'will all be explained in due time, so don't forget about this little hint quite yet…  
  
*Saerry Snape: Oh, oh WOW. I'm (almost) speechless. :-D And now it's my turn to jump up and down, 'cause YOU just posted more of YOUR story! Time to figure out where I left off…teehee!!  
  
*Silver*Chime: Again…oh, WOW. Here I was thinking that chapter 8 was a rather dull chapter…oh, wow. Thank you so so so so much! As for killing off characters…smiles innocently.  
  
*Atheis and Kyohaku Celestiale Vespertina: Oh, dear, and I didn't even really think that was much of a cliffe. Really. I thought I was being nice…  
  
*Diana le Defonceur: Yeah, I often find myself shaking my computer monitor or screaming at ff.net.. :-D Ah, yes, Cerulean Blue…a left-over from my days as an X-Phile (there was an episode in which the color played an important part).  
  
*Kim: The points go towards the House Cup, of course. :-D Or perhaps added R/R lobbying power? My lips are sealed about Lucius, although maybe this chapter gave you a couple of hints…and thank you so much! :-)  
  
*Venus4280: smiles evilly and starts to whistle…  
  
*And to Nicky, Phoenix, Ariana Deralte, and Arabwel: Thank you all so so so much, and hope you enjoyed this chapter! 


	10. Pain and Potion

A/N: Damn, I was hoping nobody would notice the little bit about Gingy. Sticks tongue out in general direction of Willow. I refuse to say anything more other than the following three things: 1. I was aware of the apparent discontinuity when I wrote it, and intentionally left it in… 2. Gingy is not a one-chapter character, and 3….well, three would be fairly incriminating in terms of future plot, so I'll just keep that little tidbit to myself. :-) But sharp reading on your part, Willow!  
  
Anyway, enjoy. More notes and answers at the end.  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter Ten: Pain and Potion  
  
  
  
Pain.  
  
Pain and fire.  
  
Pain. Exquisite, scorching heat, in his skin, throughout his body…coursing through his very blood.  
  
Past the initial flare of agony Harry became distantly aware of strong arms lowering him onto something soft and cool. Well-intentioned hands rearranged his own limp arms so that they no longer dangled at awkward angles, but Harry could do nothing more than moan and try to move away from the pain as jolts of renewed suffering shot through his very veins and nerves.  
  
He lay there unmoving, his short gasps for air evening out as the pain subsided slightly, fading so long as he didn't move. Not wholly awake, Harry dimly sensed the other person was still in the room, the whispers of shifting cloth oddly soothing to his ears.  
  
If he didn't move and if he concentrated on the steady swishing, the pain dulled into a fierce ache. He was close to dropping off into an uneasy sleep when there was a sudden cracking bang followed by the loud gasping of someone pressed for breath from physical exertion. The intrusion startled Harry in his lulled state and his body jumped out of reflex, triggering the waves of electric pain and nausea all over again. Harry whimpered as he was torn back into a hovering state of awareness.  
  
"Remus? Remus are you – oh, Merlin…what happened, what's wrong with…I came as soon as I - " The feminine voice was still ragged for breath.  
  
"Death Eaters. I went to pick him up and the house was half destroyed, and several Death Eaters…we need to get to Hogwarts –" The presence from before…Remus? Remus was here? But Harry did not properly follow through with the thought, as trying to quell the fire in his body took precedence over trying to remember the significance attached to the name Remus…  
  
"Did you-"  
  
"I signaled Albus and Severus. I don't trust the Ministry…so I brought him here –"  
  
The man's voice was traced with hints of something wild…panic? The fire subsided and Harry started to remember…the flight from Privet Drive, the arrival of the Death Eaters, his decision to leave the Wizarding world…he remembered the summer and Uncle Vernon's "discipline"…  
  
/NO!/  
  
If Harry had been fully conscious and if his body had not been so weak, he would have leapt off whatever it was he was laying on…but as it was, to the outside world Harry only whimpered pleadingly, eyelids still heavily closed.  
  
He couldn't let them find out, couldn't bear the shame if they found out…he knew he had deserved each and every blow, but how would he ever be able to face his friends, his teachers, any of them again if they knew…one more reason why he should never allow himself to return to his true home.  
  
He needed to find a way to escape, before they brought him to Hogwarts where he would put everyone in danger, before they found out what a pathetic and weak person he really was…if only his body would obey him…  
  
"As you should have." A cool hand lightly pressed against his forehead. The feather-light touch might have well as been a heavy blow for the excruciating pressure he felt upon his tender, fevered skin. The hand jerked away as Harry, jolted back to the present, cried out weakly.  
  
"Oh, my! The child is burning up! What did they do to him…"  
  
"I don't know, 'Bella, I don't know…"  
  
"A fever shouldn't cause this much pain…Where else is he injured, let me check him, why would-"  
  
/No, no, no…please no, they can't find out, they can't see what he did, they can't find out now…please just leave me alone…don't touch me, please don't touch me…/ Harry struggled to focus all his energy to move, to do something to stop them, but he couldn't move…hands, obviously trying to be gentle but were painful all the same, began to methodically probe his neck…/No, stop…hurts…it hurts…you're hurting me…/  
  
"Bella, wait. We need to get to Hogwarts – then we can get him all the help he needs and figure out what happened. He was awake, earlier, I don't think his injuries are life threatening…we need to focus on keeping it that way until we can get out of here…I…could you possibly-"  
  
The hands pulled back and had he been fully conscious his eyes would have brimmed with tears of relief.  
  
"Yes, of course…last year I completed a general healing potion intended to heal without further inflaming injuries of unknown. It's effects are only temporary, it's not a permanent solution. It hasn't been tested, but…I'll be as quick as I can." A rustle of movement as the woman who had been looming over him stood and moved beyond the perimeter of Harry's vague awareness. The couch's edge sank with newly added weight as someone else – Remus, wasn't it? – took Harry's clammy, shaking hand in his.  
  
The room fell mercifully silent and Remus simply sat, loosely holding Harry's hand. The silence grew heavier and the brutal throbbing in his head became too much until Harry finally gave in to the soothing emptiness crowding the edges of his semi-awareness. Soon even the gentle pressure on his hand felt weaker and farther away until all sensation faded to almost nothing.  
  
As he surrendered completely to the warm darkness, Harry faintly heard a new, third voice calling out his name.  
  
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Severus threw open the door leading to Arabella Figg's living room and froze, relieved to have finally found the missing wizards yet simultaneously horrified by the sight of a stricken Remus hovering over Harry's still, too-pale form on the couch.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
/It's too late…I should have told him…I should have told him…What if it's too late…/  
  
Dispelling the invisibility charm, Severus sprinted across the room and knelt between Remus and Harry.  
  
"Is he…?" Severus's eyes were wild, panicked, and focused only on his son. Remus touched the black-haired man on the shoulder reassuringly.  
  
"He's alive. Hurt, but still alive."  
  
Severus closed his eyes briefly and swallowed, thanking every deity he could draw to mind. Upon opening his eyes he automatically reached out to touch Harry's forehead but stopped himself before making contact, pulling back his shaking hand self-consciously. Oh, how he longed to touch his son, to reassure himself that he was really there, and alive…but years of conditioning, of having to silence his paternal instincts and uphold the façade of the cold-hearted Death Eater, had stayed his hand when he remembered he wasn't alone in the room. Severus tensed, mind scrambling for a proper excuse for his behavior…  
  
/He knows, Remus knows…/  
  
He slumped back against his heels in relief. Never had he ever thought he would be so thankful for Albus having revealed his most painful secret to another. The prospect of being able to drop the charade and be true to himself, at least around Remus, gave him a sense of liberation, something he hadn't truly felt in years. In less pressing circumstances it would have been enough to make him nearly giddy – that, or in a less frantic state of mind he would have been able to swiftly block the new and confusing feelings threatening to rise, just as he had done for almost an entire two decades. But as it was, the feeling was strong enough to fracture his carefully maintained projection of stony indifference, at least for the time being.  
  
"Severus?" Worried, Remus squeezed the other wizards shoulder. Severus turned to Remus, cheeks flushed and brow furrowed with worry, not really seeing the other wizard. Remus blinked, surprised by the blunt /emotion/ of Severus's expression  
  
Severus, however, was too lost in his thoughts to notice Remus's reaction, nor to notice that his hand fallen to rest lightly on Harry's shoulder.  
  
Not since the chaos following Voldemort's fall had Severus felt so uncertain about his place in the world. No longer pretending to be a follower of the Dark Lord, no longer even a spy…for Merlin's sake, the majority of the dark wizards of Britain most likely thought he was dead. His relationship with the children of his House would undoubtedly change in the coming year now that Severus had been exposed as a traitor among Voldemort's inner circles. Hell, some of his students' parents were the ones who had tried to kill him this summer, and nearly succeeded…  
  
Severus gave an imperceptible shudder before composing himself and focusing on the matter at hand.  
  
Harry. His son.  
  
En route to Arabella's home Severus had begun to piece together a hazy idea as to what happened. The pain he had felt coursing through the Dark Mark, the partial destruction of 4 Privet Drive…even Albus's sudden timing in starting to bring the secret of Harry's parentage to light…now coupled with the pale, fevered boy laid out before him…  
  
"Why are we waiting, shouldn't –"  
  
Severus blinked at Remus's interruption to his thoughts.  
  
"Traveling by floo while unconscious is too high of a risk, you ought to know that. I will not endanger Harry more than I must. We must wake him."  
  
"I…we used Ennervate earlier, at the house, but quickly lost consciousness again, I—"  
  
"No, Ennervate doesn't work." Remus cast a curious glance at Severus's quick and confident tone but Severus spared him no mind.  
  
Severus's brow furrowed. Even if he were correct in his assumptions, the boy should have woken of his own volition by now. Of course, who knows what the Death Eaters might have done to him before…Severus quickly quelled the flare of panic sparked by that line of thought. Again Remus broke his reverie.  
  
"Arabella went to her workshop to fetch some new potion…"  
  
Severus delicately sniffed the air.  
  
"Brassica oleracea, a member of the Cruciferae plant family—and no, that's not a coincidence," Severus noted absently, slipping into academic mode. "Commonly known as cabbage, has an intriguing array of both curative and injurious properties when combined with other key ingredients in liquid form. Arabella's specialty in potions research. Brassica oleracea was once- "  
  
"Five points to Slytherin." Severus jumped and turned to see Arabella standing in the doorway, goblet in hand. She looked much the same as she had the last time he had seen her, some fourteen years ago. "And you scoffed when Albus offered you my old position. Natural teacher and brilliant mind, I said."  
  
Severus ventured a smile. "I learned from the best."  
  
"Ah, yes, you did indeed." Arabella smirked as she crossed to the others, her expression growing more solemn. Her eyes lingered on Harry a moment before turning to Severus.  
  
"He looks like you, you know," she said quietly. "More so every year."  
  
It was Remus's turn to be startled.  
  
"You knew?"  
  
Arabella looked at Remus appraisingly. Remus himself had unwittingly weeks prior delivered a message from Albus detailing the wizard's plans to inform Remus of Severus's secret.  
  
"Of course I knew! I was Severus's –"  
  
"Arabella, Remus, we don't have time for this. The potion?"  
  
Both turned to Severus, who was reaching for the goblet. Arabella hesitated a second before pressing it into the wizard's hands  
  
"I just developed it this past year, it hasn't been tested…"  
  
Severus squeezed her hands a moment before taking the goblet in his own.  
  
"I trust you."  
  
Arabella knelt to lift and support Harry's head as Severus pressed the goblet to his son's lips, forcing the unconscious boy to swallow the liquid.  
  
Now all they could do was wait.  
  
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TBC…  
  
A/N: Severus found Harry. Happy? Also my longest chapter yet, happy? Exams and final papers are upon me…so there might be a slightly longer wait for the next chapter (although maybe not…finals seem to inspire me to focus on other things rather than studying…).  
  
A NOTE ABOUT SEVERUS: I've been sitting here pondering the characterization of Severus (rather than study for exams). Just because he's rather emotional and fatherly here (which I think he *would* be in the circumstances of the story, which haven't completely been revealed…but keep in mind he's known for Harry's entire life), that doesn't mean that he can't and won't be his snarky self later. Coming to terms with something on your own and in your head is very different than coming to terms with it in reality and completely changing your behavior. I just thought I'd put that out there before people turned away in disgust at emotional!Severus.  
  
  
  
*Diana Le Defonceur: Lol…you'll get your answers…it just might be in a long, drawn out way…much like Chris Carter's style, now that I think about it. I haven't been watching lately, but I hear they've heard they killed off the three Lone Gunmen….eep!  
  
*Prophetess of Hearts: Points up. See? New chapter. And it's only been a couple of days!  
  
*Venus4280: Yeah, I like it too…plus it can be used to insert mini cliffhangers midchapter. Evil Grin. See? Harry and Sev are together. Well, physically, at least. If only Harry would wake up…pokes Harry gently…  
  
*Luna Rose or Phoenix Child: I imagine Sirius will appear in a few chapters. He did just receive an owl from Dumbledore…  
  
*Whome the Fox Goddess: Ha, welcome back! That happens to me all the time…which can be nice because then I can read through several chapters at once…thanks!  
  
*Ariana Deralte: See? They met. Smiles sweetly. What, you want both of them to be conscious at the same time? How demanding. Don't worry, I'm not procrastinating…I'm just tellin' it like it is. Well, like it is in my head…  
  
*Saerry Snape: Growls. Must…have…sequel…  
  
*Atheis: Yeah, yeah, I know last chapter dragged…but I had to bring Sirius and what's-his-name (I can never remember how to correctly spell it, and I'm too lazy to look it up now) into the story, as well as continue the Lucius thread. It's another one of those chapters like the Remus and the ring one, that will be more worthwhile later on. At least that's my hope. This one hopefully was a bit more interesting. :-) And a tiny cliff, to boot.  
  
*Willows: Again, thanks, and damn you for being observant!  
  
*Sev Rickman: Yeah, I totally hear you. Feel free to keep asking questions about things that don't make sense…'cause while some of them are intentional, I'm sure not all of them are. :-) Maybe it NOT being a cliffhanger is a bit of a cliffhanger in itself, no?  
  
*Kim: Sirius will be back. Later. With the exception of the very first chapter, all of this story so far is taking place on September 1, the day everyone goes back to Hogwarts. Albus sent Remus to pick Harry up at the Dursleys and was supposed to bring him to Diagon Alley to get school supplies and then on to Hogwarts in time – if all had gone as it was supposed to, Harry would have arrived when everyone else did.  
  
*And many, many thanks to: Zorra, Lin-Z, Nicky, Seer of the Panther (ha! thanks!), Potions Master Snape Potter, Arabwel, Silver*Chime, and summersun. :-D 


	11. Awakenings and Interruptions

A/N: My, you all are too trusting. Not a one of you was concerned that, say, the potion would do something harmful to Harry. So sorry this took so long…the good news is I'm finished with exams and should have more time to write. :-D  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter 11: Awakenings and Interruptions  
  
  
  
The three adults sat in tense silence.  
  
After administering the potion Severus had set aside the goblet and had hesitantly taken one of Harry's limp hands in his own. Arabella had taken a damp washcloth to the boy's fevered forehead trying to cool his fever externally as Remus looked on, fighting the urge to pace the room.  
  
Each began to wonder whether something had gone wrong with the potion when Harry suddenly took a sharp intake of breath. Severus clenched the frail hand and Remus lunged closer.  
  
"Harry? Wake up, Harry."  
  
The feverish boy slowly moved his head against the pillow and whimpered, as if the small movement had caused great pain. Arabella removed the washcloth.  
  
"Harry, child, it's alright, just open your eyes…" she murmered. Harry moaned weakly in response but began to stir, eyelashes starting to flutter as the boy struggled to obey. Severus abruptly stood, tearing his hand away from Harry's before the boy woke completely.  
  
"I will signal Albus," Severus said, voice tight. His gaze lingered on Harry for a moment before sparing a quick nod to Arabella and sweeping into the next room. Brows slightly furrowed in confusion, Remus stared after Severus a moment before turning back to the awakening figure on the couch. He swiftly took Severus's place, grasping Harry's freed hand as Arabella continued to call him awake.  
  
"That's a good boy, just open your eyes." She smoothed back damp bangs and smiled as pained green eyes blearily blinked open.  
  
"M-M-Mrs. Figg?" Harry's voice was but a faint whisper.  
  
"Yes, Harry. You're in my home, you're safe now." Arabella adjusted Harry's glasses. He blinked as his eyes refocused. "Do you see who else is here?"  
  
"P-Professor Lupin?" Harry was rewarded with a warm smile as Remus nodded.  
  
"That's right, Harry. Now, can you sit up?"  
  
Harry struggled halfway into a sitting position, jumping when Arabella placed a hand on his shoulder to help him. Panting softly, Harry tilted his head back against the couch, shying away from Arabella's steadying hand. His eyes started to slide shut but suddenly widened as he became more aware of his surroundings. Harry jerked awake, biting his lip against the pain the sudden movement caused.  
  
"Professor Lupin? What are you doing here? You need to leave, you're in danger—"  
  
"Shh, try to calm down, Harry. Don't worry about us," said Remus, reaching out to assure the boy but stopping when Harry visibly flinched.  
  
"You know each other?"  
  
"Mrs. Figg is a witch, Harry." Harry nodded slowly.  
  
"I thought so…" At both adults' startled expressions he hastily tried to explain. "Last year, after…well, Dumbledore…I mean, Professor Dumbledore…sent Sirius on a mission to contact the 'old crowd' and he mentioned Arabella Figg, so I thought that…" he trailed off, uncertain.  
  
"What a clever child!" Arabella beamed. "I've known Remus since he was a wee thing. I taught him when he went to Hogwarts, taught your parents, too—"  
  
"You knew my parents?" Harry was too shocked to notice Arabella's pointed look at Remus.  
  
"Of course she did, Harry. Arabella was our Potions professor." Harry looked back and forth between Arabella and Remus, somewhat unbelieving. "Now, Harry," said Remus, swiftly changing the subject, "do you remember what happened?"  
  
Harry paled and noticeably withdrew from his earlier excited state.  
  
"A…a little. Bits and pieces." He looked down at his hands folded in his lap.  
  
"We need you to tell us what you remember…" Harry bobbed his head, refusing to look up. He spoke slowly, head still bowed.  
  
"I was…I was waiting for someone from Hogwarts to take me to school…" Harry flushed, but continued. "Professor Dumbledore wrote a few days ago, and…" Guilt flashed across Remus's face.  
  
"Yes, Harry, I was coming to collect you. Go on."  
  
"Well, I was waiting and heard a noise from outside. It wasn't quite noon so I didn't think it was…anyway, I ran to get my wand when…"  
  
"Yes, Harry?" prompted Arabella. Harry's voice dropped to a strained whisper.  
  
"Death Eaters. They…they burst through the door, I…"  
  
"How many, Harry?" Harry chewed his lip.  
  
"I think…six?"  
  
"Six?" said Remus, startled. 'I only counted five…' he thought.  
  
"I think so…they, they cornered me in the living room. I…I don't really remember much after that, I didn't feel too good…"  
  
"That's alright, Harry." Arabella smiled warmly. "Do you remember anything after that?"  
  
"There were voices…" He looked questioningly at Remus. "I think I remember Professor Lupin?" He nodded.  
  
"That's right. I…I found you, brought you here."  
  
"That's all I remember, I'm sorry…" Harry looked away, as if ashamed.  
  
"Hush, child, you—" Harry suddenly gasped and looked up in horror.  
  
"The house! The Dursleys' house! Uncle Vernon…" His voice shook slightly and he bit his lip hard as he became lost in thought. Arabella and Remus, not noticing, had jumped to their feet.  
  
"Were the Dursleys home?"  
  
"No, no. No one else was home. Uncle Vernon went to work and Aunt Petunia took Dudley out…he's afraid of wizards, you see, and…" Remus sighed in relief.  
  
"Thank Merlin. I didn't think to see if anyone else was in the house…"  
  
"What…what's going to happen to the house, the Dursleys…"  
  
"Already construction wizards working on undoing the damage, I suspect. The house and the Dursleys will be fine." Harry slumped back against the couch in relief.  
  
"I-in that case, I want to go back."  
  
"Don't worry, Harry, I'm sure Arabella will collect your trunk and we can go to Dia—"  
  
"No, I mean, I want to go back." Both adults were thoroughly confused.  
  
"Don't be silly, child. You're going to Hogwarts with Remus and—" Arabella was interrupted by Severus bursting into the room. Harry gasped and scrambled to his feet, swaying slightly..  
  
"Professor Snape!"  
  
Severus seemed to pay no heed to Harry's startled outcry, turning instead to the remaining two.  
  
"Ministry. Already past the gate," Severus gasped, slightly out of breath. "I signaled Albus but it will take too long for him to disable the wards. We'll have to go by portkey. Arabella, you'll have to stay or they'll be suspicious. Remus and Potter, take hold of this." He held out a copy of the Daily Prophet and Remus promptly joined Severus, taking hold of the paper.  
  
Harry, however, had frozen on the spot, face absolutely white.  
  
"Harry?" Remus asked. "Harry, what's wrong?" Harry paid Remus no heed, continuing to stare at his Potions Master in horror.  
  
"A-a portkey?"  
  
"Yes, a portkey." Severus said exasperated. "Now come on, we don't—"  
  
"No, I...I can't…" Harry unsteadily backed away from the three adults, who in turn were all staring at him uncomprehendingly. Severus took a step forward, voice faltering.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
Harry's eyes were wide and wild, in such a panic that he failed to notice the Potion Master's use of his first name.  
  
"I…I can't. Cedric…"  
  
Severus and Remus both inhaled sharply. 'Of course,' thought Remus, 'The Triwizard Cup was a portkey that brought him to Voldemort…' Before Remus could find words to reassure Harry, Severus had already begun to speak.  
  
"I assure you, Harry, I made this myself. It will just bring us to Hogwarts and Professor Dumbledore, it's perfectly safe." As Severus reached to place a hand on Harry's shoulder, he suddenly noticed that Harry's terrified stare had shifted from the newspaper in his hand to a point behind him.  
  
"Mr. Potter is quite right, he's not going anywhere with you."  
  
The three adults spun on the spot.  
  
Just through the door to Arabella's living room stood the Minister of Magic himself, flanked by six Aurors.  
  
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TBC…  
  
A/N: Hmm, that was unexpected…Fudge's appearance wasn't scheduled until later, but he insisted on barging right in without any consideration to others, including the author. Ah well. Severus currently reminds me a lot like this cat we has when I was little. His name was Winston and was a European Wildcat…he died when I was six and at that point was still bigger than I was. Anyway, when I was awake Winston detested me—I was competition for my father's affections, and thus enemy number one. When I was asleep, however, he adored me and was my protector—he used to curl up on my bed or on the floor by the bed and wouldn't even let my own parents near me to check on me at night (literally).  
  
Severus, meet Winston; Winston, meet Severus.  
  
I'm going to forego replying to reviews so I can get this posted—I'll go back and add them at a later point. But thank you ALL for reviewing (223! I'm truly shocked…I figured I'd get, like, 10 total.)!!!!!! 


	12. Arrivals and Accusations

Ah, sorry, sorry, sorry! Moving, starting work full time, rogue plot bunnies, and no internet access in my summer sublet! Wah!  
  
Here's chapter 12, my longest yet…I figured I owed all of you! Thank you ALL so INCREDIBLY much for the wonderful reviews…I love you all dearly! I'm going to refrain from listing my wonderful, kind reviewers and responding to questions as I can't do that from home *sob*, and I gather you'd all rather I upload this chapter once I get in to work rather than take the time out to reply to reviews anyway. :-)  
  
So, enjoy. More blasted Fudge. Grr.  
  
Disclaimer: So, so so so definitely not mine…  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter 12: Arrivals and Accusations  
  
  
  
"Minister Fudge." Severus ground out between clenched teeth.  
  
"Ah, Severus. A pleasure to see you're alive after all. Gentlemen?" Fudge nodded at the group of Aurors and one stepped forward, confiscating Severus's portkey. Fudged continued, "Dumbledore has been rather evasive about that, hasn't he? About whether you survived that very…nasty…ordeal this summer. Dumbledore seems to be evasive about many things. Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry, who had been looking back and forth between Fudge and Severus, swayed but remained on his feet.  
  
"I don't know what you mean."  
  
"Of course you don't, boy." Fudge's tone was sugary, as if he were talking to a five year old. He turned to address the Aurors. "As I said, mad beyond a doubt."  
  
"Now, Severus…"  
  
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Lucius strode through the lavish halls of the east wing of Malfoy Manor, step jovial and light. He quickly wound his way around corners and through rooms, lush green carpet crushed beneath his feet and portraits of his ancestors watching approvingly from the gilded walls.  
  
At last he came to his destination, the final suite of rooms at the end of the final corridor. He flung open the doors and smiled jovially at his six guests.  
  
"Avery, Goyle, Crabbe, Nott, Rookwood! I trust Gingy has seen to your injuries and other needs?" After receiving five nods to the affirmative Malfoy turned to face his last guest and smiled.  
  
"Ah, Bernard Basil. I trust the journey here was uneventful?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Quite."  
  
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At Minister Fudge's declaration Harry had shrunk back, his stomach sinking at the Minister's tone and the indescribable glint lighting his eyes. Fudge. Fudge, who didn't believe him. Fudge, who had refused to accept Voldemort's return. Who very likely thought Harry to be insane. Fudge, who probably thought Harry had been responsible for Cedric Diggory's death, and rightfully so…  
  
Mrs. Figg's potion was beginning to wear off and Harry felt his injuries and illness returned with seemingly increased intensity. Stomach queasy and brow beginning to bead with sweat, Harry stumbled backwards and sank into the soft confines of the couch. Harry heard but did not really process the conversation of the adults as he wrapped his arms around his middle and clenched his jaw against the returning pain. His body shook as the fever returned to its former strength, worsened by the rising fear of what Fudge might have meant when he said Harry was not going anywhere with the professors…  
  
A sudden movement in the periphery of his vision and awareness brought him sluggishly back to the present situation. Harry looked up, eyes wide with alarm and pain, as Fudged advanced uoon him, followed by two of the Aurors. He saw Remus try to go to Harry, but one of the Aurors prevented him, snarling something that sounded suspiciously like "foul werewolf" under his breath. Remus's face darkened but he ignored the insult, glaring at the Minister instead.Of the remaining Aurors, two took position by Arabella and Severus, leaving the last to standing guard by the entryway.  
  
"Harry's obviously unwell, Minister. He needs medical attention," said Arabella, her Auror too preventing her from going to the shaking boy on her couch. Fudge chuckled.  
  
"I see he's managed to fool you as well. Quite the actor, had me quite convinced for a long time, but I had a bit of an…awakening, if you will, last spring. The boy is obviously only pretending to be ill—trying to escape the consequences of his actions, no doubt." Harry gaped at the Minister, struggling to formulate a protest but the words caught in his throat.  
  
"The child is not feigning illness, I can assure you, Minister!" cried Arabella indignantly. "Let us take him back to Hogwarts. Madame Pomfrey can assess his state of health and we can sort this all out with Headmaster Dumbledore—"  
  
Head spinning, Harry closed his eyes. He was uncomfortably aware of the hard and accusatory stares of the Aurors. His cheeks burned in shame as he wished he could just melt into the couch and no longer cause trouble for Mrs. Figg and Professors Lupin and Snape, all of whom undoubtedly had far more important things to attend to than debate something as trivial as Harry's state of being. As much as he feared going with Fudge and the Aurors, Harry almost wished the others would just let him go and forget the whole issue.  
  
"Nonsense, the boy is coming with me. I warned Dumbledore of the consequences of allowing this boy to go free and uncontrolled in his…his madness. I specifically told Dumbledore this past spring that if there was one more incident he could be assured I would be taking the boy into custody, regardless. Bad enough sticking out my neck and allowing the boy one more chance, despite the public outcry for something to be done! And now look what has happened! The boy is a menace to society and it is my duty to protect the public—"  
  
"A *menace*?" he heard Snape snarl, "The only threat to the safety of the general public is *you*, Minister, not an ailing child, he himself a victim!"  
  
What?! Snape *defending* him? Harry's eyes would have popped ipen in surprise if he weren't so thoroughly exhausted…  
  
"Severus," Remus warned.  
  
"Not a threat?! Tell that to the Diggory boy!" Throat constricting, Harry squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, not wanting to see the looks of disappointment and disgust undoubtedly displayed across the faces of his professors and Mrs. Figg. "Tell that to my four Aurors that he killed this very morning," Fudge spat.  
  
This time Harry did open his eyes, staring numbly at Fudge in confusion.  
  
"What?!" cried Severus and Remus in incredulous unison.  
  
"This morning," replied Fudge, eyes gleaming strangely, "I sent four of my finest Aurors to escort Mr. Potter to Hogwarts. Potter, undoubtedly mad or worse, attacked and killed all four and managed to destroy half of his relatives' home in the process." Harry looked about the room wildly, searching the faces of the Aurors for some trace of sympathy or disbelief, but only finding cold hatred from each one.  
  
"No! No, that isn't true!" he protested weakly, dissolving into a fit of coughs. He gasped out, "Death Eaters! They were Death Eaters!"  
  
Fudge turned on Harry angrily, but was interrupted by Remus.  
  
"Nonsense, Fudge! I was the first one at the scene—they *were* Death Eaters, I am as sure of that as I am of anything, and there were five of them, not four! They were all alive, only knocked unconscious, I checked them each myself. Basil, the driver, he can tell—"  
  
"Silence, werewolf!"  
  
"Please, it's not true!" Harry struggled to stand but could not summon the energy. Arabella tried again to rush to his aid but was physically restrained. "They were Death Eaters! I didn't mean to hurt them, I didn't mean to—"  
  
"How," interjected Severus, who had been standing stock still, back ramrod straight and fists clenched. His voice was low and dangerous. "How, then, do you come to explain the appearance of the Dark Mark above the house, Minister?"  
  
Fudge looked momentarily at a loss but quickly recovered. He smiled.  
  
"Why, Potter cast it himself."  
  
Chaos ensued.  
  
Harry, desperate and terrified, shoved himself to his feet but quickly became overwhelmed and collapsed to the floor. At the same moment, Remus broke free from his guard and lunged at Fudge, who began to shriek. Then Arabella, too, launched herself at Fudge. The Aurors all joined the fray at Fudge's squeaking commands. As Harry collapsed, Severus rushed forward and eased the trembling boy to the floor, the Aurors temporarily distracted. Harry clutched at Severus's robes and looked up at the professor, eyes filled with distress.  
  
"I didn't do it, Professor, you have to believe me, they were Death Eaters, they tried to…I didn't mean it, I…please, please believe me…" Harry gasped frantically, his sudden rise and fall having tore at the wounds crisscrossing his back and jarred his bruised and fractured ribs.  
  
"Shh, I believe you. Just hold still." Severus had redrawn his wand and was glancing about the room as if in search of something. Harry tried to obey, but could not help but gasp as Severus placed what he thought to be a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. Severus's quickly turned at the sound, maintaining his grip. In the background Fudge, Remus, Arabella, and the Aurors still struggled in a tangled mess.  
  
"Potter? What's wrong?" Severus asked, concerned. Tears of pain had welled in Harry's eyes.  
  
"N-nothing, sir." Harry shook his head, averting his gaze. Seemingly unconvinced, Severus hesitated a moment before quickly working the knot of Harry's uniform tie and the top buttons of his shirt. Harry gasped again, this time in fear of being discovered. "Please, Professor, it's nothing, I didn't mean to—" Severus shot Harry a quieting glare, albeit one softened with concern.  
  
"It's alright, Potter, just let me have a look." He gently tugged aside both the jumper and collar of Harry's uniform shirt as the boy hung his head despairingly.  
  
Severus breathed in sharply.  
  
The shoulder Severus had bared was mottled with a multitude of bruises and scrapes. While some of the bruises were dark purple and blue and the scrapes raw, others were obviously older, yellowed and scarred over. One particularly gruesome and deep gash began beneath Harry's collarbone and arched over his shoulder and disappeared beyond view down the boy's back. Fresh blood seeped from the reopened wound.  
  
Severus took this in, frozen in shock. Someone had done this to Harry, his Harry, his son! This was just the boy's shoulder, Merlin knew what other damage might have been done…  
  
"Harry, who did this to you?" Harry shook his head silently. "We don't have time for…you need to tell me. Did the Death Eaters do this?" Another shake. Severus believed him. If the injuries had been inflicted by Death Eaters, the boy's clothing would show more damage; it wouldn't explain the older wounds anyways. Which meant—  
  
"Severus! Behind you!"  
  
Severus whirled and appraised the situation. The Aurors had at last managed to pull Remus and Arabella off the Minister, who was at the moment leaning against the fireplace panting as one Auror attempted to assist him. Several more held Remus and Arabella at wand-point across the room, and the remaining ones were now advancing on Severus and Harry. He was grossly outnumbered, and didn't have time to configure a portkey. Brazenly, he turned back to Harry, softly grasping him by the upper arms.  
  
"Potter...Harry…there's something important I must tell you, I—"  
  
"Step aside, Professor Snape." One Auror practically shoved Severus aside as another roughly grabbed Harry and sharply dragged the boy to his feet, causing him to cry out in agony.  
  
"Professor!" Harry cried, hysterically reaching for Severus as he weakly resisted his captor. Severus lunged forward to grab his son but came up with only air as the sound of seven pops rang out in the suddenly quiet room.  
  
Severus pulled himself to his knees, looking about the room frantically to find Remus and Arabella staring at him in shock.  
  
Harry was gone.  
  
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TBC… 


	13. Convictions of Varying Sorts

*Sigh* Still no internet connection at home, so I'm hastily posting this at work. So again, a blanket thank you and hug for everyone's amazing reviews and praise! Another long chapter (well, by my standards!)…I was going to divide this into two, but I decided I have kept you waiting long enough…  
  
For those who detest the idea of Severus as Harry's father, but are bravely reading this story regardless (bless you! you're amazing! and intrepid!), you might want to pull up the wastebasket or something, because this chapter is rather heavy in the father/son bit. But there's an important plot bit at the end, so…fortitude!  
  
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The Color of Crimson  
  
By Lady of Arundel  
  
Chapter 13: Declarations, Reconciliations, and Accusations  
  
  
  
Severus stared dumbly at the spot where his son had stood mere seconds earlier. Harry was gone. Fudge had taken his son, his son who was gravely ill and injured, taken Harry before Severus could tell him the truth. Fudge was still in denial of Voldemort's return, and he needed a scapegoat for the rise in Death Eater activity and the recent losses to his division of Aurors. If Fudge held Harry responsible for Diggory's death and was willing to frame him for the death of four Aurors, who knew what lengths Fudge would go to in order to protect himself, and at Harry's expense. His son was in danger, and Severus had been unable to protect him…  
  
His thoughts quickly turned to his discovery of Harry's injuries. If they hadn't been inflicted in the child's struggle with the Death Eaters—Harry's outwardly appearance and Harry himself had confirmed that—and if Remus had been with Harry ever since, the wounds and bruising must have been gained beforehand…The pieces began to slide into place. Harry's small size for a boy his age: not likely the cause of genetics as both he and Lily had been tall, could also have been caused by malnutrition. Harry always arrived each September looking rather underweight, despite how robust and in good health he departed Hogwarts each spring. Harry hardly ever received mail, and the few pieces that had started to arrive in the previous school year Severus suspected came from Black, the child's godfather. Harry's name was always first on the list of students staying over term holidays, and it had been rumored he once had asked the headmaster if he could stay for the summer holidays, as well. His son's behavior, latching on heart and soul to anyone who offered him kindness…Staffroom whispers had rumored that Harry hadn't even known he was a wizard before arriving at Hogwarts. The Boy Who Lived, left in the dark about his own past and very essence of being…  
  
Severus was going to kill them.  
  
The Dursley's, Lily's own blood relatives, had starved and abused her son. His son. A child who, for all of Severus's forced declarations to the contrary in his role as a former Death Eater, was among the gentlest, most loyal, most thoughtful souls to live…and Harry had even tried to protect his abusers by concealing and denying his injuries, as if they were commonplace. Perhaps they *were* commonplace, were normal, as far as Harry knew.  
  
Severus's blood positively boiled.  
  
He would find Harry, and he would fix this. He would do what he should have done from the beginning, and be there for his son, rather than unknowingly reassert the boy's self-image of worthlessness and insignificance, which too undoubtedly derived from his cruel upbringing.  
  
Severus became dimly aware that Remus and Arabella had dashed from their position across the room and had knelt at either side of him and were now urging him to his feet. He unsteadily complied, eyes still slightly glazed.  
  
"Severus, dear, snap out of it. You'll be of no help to Harry like this. Focus on your son—"  
  
"They hurt him, 'Bella."  
  
"What?"  
  
Severus turned his head slowly, looking his former professor and House Head in the eye.  
  
"Harry. While you were fighting off Fudge, I grasped Harry's shoulder and he cried out in agony…*agony*…He was hiding severe bruises, welts, gashes…and that's just what I could see in the moment I had. They weren't gained in the confrontation with the Death Eaters, they couldn't have." Remus and Arabella had both paled, and Severus swallowed his rage for the Dursleys and himself for the moment. "His relatives. His relatives did that to him. To a child placed in their care."  
  
"I knew Dursley disliked Harry because he was a wizard, but I never thought…I never saw…outwardly everything seemed just fine. I'm so sorry, Severus." Arabella leaned heavily against the high back of one of the armchairs by the fireplace. Remus, on the other hand, began to pace the room with angry, jerking steps, cheeks flushed with fury. "Remus?" Arabella asked cautiously. Remus halted, fists balled.  
  
"I-I …if I didn't already know that the bastards aren't home I would go over there right now, Ministry and all, and…" Remus's fists clenched tighter, knuckles white. "How *dare* they, hurt a child because he's different, because of something that is beyond his control…"  
  
Remus was so angry it had even given Severus pause. Severus suddenly understood—Arabella's words had struck a little too close to home for the werewolf, who had suffered all his life from abuse, both physical and psychological, because of a condition beyond his control. The Potions Master blushed with shame as he realized that he himself had once figured prominently on Remus's list of tormentors. He struggled to find the words to calm the other man but Arabella was already at Remus's side, speaking lowly until at last the werewolf visibly relaxed. She turned to Severus, himself still an image of fury and sorrow, and stroked his arm reassuringly.  
  
"We'll get him back," she soothed, although her worried glance at Remus from behind the troubled Potions Master spoke of less assurance. She straightened her shoulders and adopted a no-nonsense tone reminiscent of her teaching days at Hogwarts. "I'll go to the house, see if I can collect Harry's things. Remus, Severus, alert Dumbledore—I'll follow shortly." Severus nodded and Arabella promptly departed for Privet Drive.  
  
Both men's rings began to flash a light blue—Dumbledore's signal that the floo wards to his office had been lowered. /Too little, too late,/ Severus mused. Jaw set determinedly, Severus withdrew a velvet crimson pouch of floo powder from the depths of his robes and tossed a pinch into the fire.  
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Password: Pumpkin Juice," he called out before stepping into the shimmering flames. Severus vanished.  
  
Remus rummaged for his own crimson pouch of floo powder, glancing about the room as he searched his pockets. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the shimmer of light reflecting off something on the floor at the foot of the couch. He stepped closer to get a better look and grimaced—Harry's glasses, fallen and forgotten in the boy's struggle. Remus pocketed the glasses and tossed a pinch of powder in the fireplace.  
  
"Headmaster Dumbledore's office. Password: Pumpkin Juice." He stepped into the flames and Arabella's living room whirled away.  
  
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/No, no, no, no, no…!/  
  
One moment he had been scrambling to escape the Aurors' clawing hands, crying out for Snape, for someone to help him, and the next moment the world began to dissolve an he felt the familiar tug…  
  
/No, no, no, no, no…!/  
  
A portkey.  
  
Lashes raining down upon his back.  
  
The Triwizard Cup.  
  
"Stupid boy."  
  
Cedric.  
  
Tiny cupboard, floor slick with blood.  
  
"Kill the spare."  
  
Voldemort.  
  
Fingers digging into bruises and gashes along his arms.  
  
Voldemort.  
  
Uncle Vernon.  
  
Fudge.  
  
Cedric…  
  
/All my fault…/  
  
As the world came back into focus, Harry fainted.  
  
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Remus stepped out of Dumbledore's fireplace into the middle of an argument.  
  
"I had suspected something like this for some time…I was aware of their dislike of our kind but I had hoped…" Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, leaning heavily back into his chair and fingers steepled.  
  
"You *hoped*? You *knew* what kind of people they are and you still sent my son to them? To be abused? Albus, how could you?!" Severus was wild, the pretense of control that he had gathered back at Arabella's shattered.  
  
"Severus, child, I—" Albus tried, but Severus continued on after taking a centering breath, lifting his chin and eyes narrowing.  
  
"I know you often have little regard for the Slytherins, but thought you cared *something* for your precious Gryffindors." Severus knew he had gone too far, but he no longer cared. He spoke the truth. Across the room Remus paled at the reference to that horrible night, the night he almost had—  
  
"Severus." Albus's voice was steel, but his eyes belied his distress. Severus sharply spun to meet the older wizard's eyes, and it was the despair and sorrow he saw there instead of the cold reprimand he had been expecting that made him slowly sit into one of the chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. Remus silently took the other.  
  
"Severus," Albus began again, voice softer. He closed his eyes briefly, as if struggling to set his words in the proper order. "I…I will not say that was uncalled for, because it wasn't. I acted poorly. I have treated you poorly in the past and for that…for that I am so very sorry, Severus. Words fail me, Severus, really they do. I," Albus breathed heavily, searching the dark haired wizard's face, "I think of you as my son, one of my own, and it pains me to know that I have…to have caused you to suffer, so. I'm sorry, Severus."  
  
Remus could only watch as the two stared at each other, eyes communicating what words could not. At long last, when Remus had been convinced Severus was about to either lunge across the desk or collapse to the floor in tears, a small smile graced the Potions Master's lips.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered. Albus smiled in return, eyes suspiciously wet, and cleared his throat.  
  
"Now, about your son."  
  
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Harry's knees buckled, his body sagging in the vice-grips of the two Aurors. Harry had woken, by force, to find himself somewhere in the bowels of what he assumed to be the Ministry. Aurors had dragged him into a standing position before Fudge, whose wild eyes still glinted dangerously.  
  
"Harry James Potter, you are hereby charged with the murder of Cedric Diggory; the attempted murder of Vernon Dursely, Petunia Dursley, and Dudley Dursley; the illegal use of excessive magic by a minor; the…"  
  
The pounding in his ears and the spinning of the room grew with each breath. He gasped for air, mouth filled with a bitter, coppery taste. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed against the whirling room and trying not to cry out in pain, anger, sorrow…yes, he had killed Cedric and knew he should be punished for it, but the rest, the rest wasn't true! He had just been trying to defend himself, he had been scared…the Dursley's hadn't even been home! He lifted his head, hair in his eyes, and tried to plead with the Minister.  
  
"Please…" he gasped, voice rough and weak, "I didn't…didn't mean to…please, please let me see Professor Dumbledore…"  
  
Fudge sharply slapped Harry across the face.  
  
"Quiet, stupid boy!" he growled.  
  
Harry quieted, trying to stifle the harsh coughs the sudden movement had triggered.  
  
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.  
  
"As I was saying. Harry Potter, you are hereby a charge of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and are to be held in a solitary cell in Azkaban until trial." Fudge smiled and nodded to one of the Aurors. "I want him sent directly to confinement, by portkey. Arrange it."  
  
The Auror glanced at the prisoner.  
  
"Minister, shouldn't we first bring him to the doctor? He's obviously…unwell." His eyes lingered on the broken form of Harry Potter. /More like half-dead…/ He had no doubt that the boy, imbalanced, was a murder, but he was still human, and still no more than a child…  
  
"Are you *questioning* me, Catheus?" The Auror in question averted his eyes.  
  
"No, sir. Of course not, sir," he quickly replied.  
  
"Take him. Now." Fudge turned and left the room, robes swirling triumphantly, followed by the other Aurors present. Catheus approached the crumpled form in the center of the room, the boy having been abandoned by the other Aurors to his care. The boy lifted his eyes, and pleading, pain- filled emerald met cold blue for a moment.  
  
Catheus hastily looked away and began to key the portkey.  
  
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TBC…  
  
Drop me a line, and tell me what you think…I'm getting into somewhat vague territory plot-planning wise (I have a couple ways I could go), so your input would be greatly appreciated! 


	14. Crimson Tidings

Hey all! So I was settling in to start typing up new chapters and was rereading what I've already posted and decided to rewrite this chapter…I was rather unhappy with it, especially the bit with Severus. So here's the revised version…still poor writing, but a bit more in depth, with a few important (yet subtle) changes made.

  
  
The Color of Crimson Chapter 14: Crimson Tidings

Fudge stalked into the ornate reception room of his suite of offices as the standard two Auror guards detailed to the Minister's protection peeled off and took up posts outside the heavy door. The numerous undersecretaries scurrying about, carrying out the business of the Ministry, all slowed nearly imperceptibly as the tension of the office doubled with the arrival of their boss. Fudge paused beside the desk closest to the door of his private office and drummed his fingers expectantly. Babcock, Fudge's head secretary, leapt to his feet, fumbling and dropping his quill as he jerkily readjusted his crooked glasses.

"Minister Fudge, Sir! Humblest apologies! We didn't expect you back so early, Sir." Babcock hesitated a moment, glancing at the worried faces of the other secretaries. "And…and Harry Potter, Sir? Did you find him?"

A look of malice flickered across Fudge's features. The hand that had been pressed flat against the desk clenched. Fudge forced a cheerful smile.

"Yes, we found the poor child. Alive, thank Merlin." Babcock mistook Fudge's agitation as a consequence of great stress of the morning and scurried to pour the Minister his usual cup of tea. Earl Grey, extra sugar.

"I've placed the boy in the protective custody of the Ministry, seems the…great…Albus Dumbledore cannot manage to protect a single child." Fudge scowled as a teacup was pressed into his hands. "Doddering fool should be removed from his post—a security threat to all those children, I say! But do the Board of Governors listen to me? Of course not. Whole group went sour once they forced out dear Malfoy. Now there's a level-headed man if I ever saw one. Solid wizard stock. Now the Board is a biased, coddling lot. I still say the Board should be placed under Ministry control, but…"

Fudge shrugged, and took a sip of tea. Face twisting into a sour grimace, hastily setting the cup down. He pulled out his pocket watch and startled at what he saw, quickly tucking the timepiece back into his pocket.

"My, is that the time? All this business about Potter and I've lost track…five of the hour! I must step out a moment—lunch meeting—very important, not to be disturbed. No, no, I'll use the floo in my office." Fudge swung open his office door and paused, turning around again after risking another quick glance at his pocket watch.

"And Babcock, best not a word about the Potter boy—for his own protection, of course. If the Daily Prophet asks, he is safe and they're not to worry." The secretary nodded, such instructions were not unusual. A thought occurred to him.

"Sir, what about Dumbledore? Hogwarts opens today for the new term." Fudge smiled, this time not at all forced.

"I shall deal with the Headmaster myself. Not a word, any of you." Fudge spun on his heel and entered his office, slamming the door behind him.

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"Then we are agreed," Lucius leaned back in his chair, a superior smile curling his lips. He paused, hand suddenly grasping his forearm. "You shall act on my order, no other."  He stood, surveying the others in the room. 

"Come, we have been summoned."

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Severus had been coaxed into an armchair and there he now sat, relatively oblivious to the conversation between the other two men in the office. The Potions Master's unfocused gaze was fixed on the rapidly-cooling cup of tea balanced on one overstuffed arm of the chair. After his initial fury with the Dursleys had cooled—or more aptly, been compartmentalized for future consideration—Severus had moved on to guilt. As just as his anger with Albus might have been for placing Harry in the Dursley's care, Severus could not ignore that he himself was also to blame. True, he had been in no position or state to care for his son in those early years after the Dark Lord's defeat, but after…  Severus had decided to leave the child with Lily's sister, convincing himself he had no other choice, that he had to protect his delicate position between Dark and Light for when—and he had always been certain it was a question of when, not if—Voldemort returned. But he knew that while maintaining his dark reputation had been legitimate concern, truly it had been a convenient excuse to justify relinquishing his duties as a father. He had been lost without Lily, and every thought of their son had immediately reminded him of her and what he had lost. But finally he now came to realize that not protesting the Ministry's belief that Petunia Dursley was Harry's sole living relative had served only to further deepen his loss. Even worse, his cowardice in attempting to block Lily from his mind and fear that he would fail as a father had condemned his son to a childhood of misery and suffering. He had deprived Lily's child of love and happiness, and went on to worsen the wounds when Harry had at last escaped the world of the Dursleys. And now, he yet again had failed his son, allowing him to be taken before his very eyes.

Someone brushed against his chair and Severus quickly reached out to restore the tea cup to its precarious position on the arm, successfully jostled from his line of thought back to the discussion at hand.

"I'm afraid Cornelius has been under great pressure to explain the recent increase in Dark activity as he still refuses to acknowledge Voldemort's return—"

"But Albus, how would blaming Harry of all people do him any good?" Dumbledore sighed.

"You have been reading the Daily Prophet just as I have, Remus. I'm afraid Cornelius has been focusing his energy on trying to convince the public of Harry's…mental instability. That talk of Voldemort's return is nothing but the mad ravings of an imbalanced child, and various "happenings" as he likes to call them an unhappy coincidence." Albus sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, just a moment, I do believe Sirius has arrived."

As soon as the Headmaster spoke the door flew open and a large black dog bounded into the room. The dog glanced about the office and transformed into the panting, harried human form of Sirius Black. Not even Severus Snape's presence could distract Sirius in his frantic state. He spun to face Dumbledore, still breathless from his dash through Hogwarts.

"Headmaster, I came as soon as I received your owl. What has happened? Where's Harry?" Albus stood somberly, lifting a hand to cut off the younger wizard.

"Take a seat, Sirius. I'm afraid the news is not good."

Sirius nodded hollowly and sank into a chair as the Headmaster began to fill him in on the morning's events.  

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Catheus relaxed his grip on his limp charge as the portkey deposited the two in a barren, solitary cell. The boy fell to his knees, eyes watering and gasping pain-filled breaths. Catheus stepped back from the wheezing child and glanced through the cell's bars, checking that the hall was clear. Turning back to Harry, Catheus lifted his wand and aimed at the boy, whose eyes widened with fear.

"I'm sorry, but it will be better for you this way. Stupify!"

Catheus lifted the unconscious form to the makeshift bed. Again checking that the hall was clear, he muttered a few basic healing spells over the child before the portkey recharged and whisked Catheus back to the Ministry.

Harry Potter was left alone in his cell, blissfully unaware as the Dementors moved in to inspect their new charge.

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Fudge checked the wards on his office door once more before he was satisfied with their strength. Pausing at the door to make sure all was right on the other side of the door, Fudge hurriedly flooed to a safe house and then apparated to his final destination. He drew his pinstriped cloak tightly around him as he picked his way past masked guards and through the labyrinth of halls, knowing his route well.

Fudge entered the main hall and was about to make his greetings when suddenly his stomach lurched and his vision swam. He shoved his hand into his vest pocket and clammy fingers fumbled with the pocket watch, thumbing it open just as the minute hand moved to twelve. He fell to his knees, gasping and writhing in pain, watch falling to the floor and glass shattering.

"What are you all standing there for, help him!"

Hands grabbed his arms and helped him to his knees. He lifted his head but kept his eyes lowered as his vision cleared, watching has his bottle-green suit and striped cloak transformed into flowing black robes. He heard the slow rustle of cloth but didn't look up.

"Master?"

A cool hand tipped up his chin and he at last looked up. Voldemort smiled, watching as wrinkled, ruddy skin smoothened and rumpled grey hair melted into sleek brown locks drawn back into a ponytail. Voldemort ran the back of his hand along the kneeling wizard's cheek.

"Marcus, my faithful servant. You have done very well. No one suspects?"

"No, my Lord. All went precisely as you planned. The potion worked perfectly. May I ask, my Lord…"

"Did the others escape the attack?"

Voldemort turned with a flourish. "My loyal servant, ever concerned about his fellow Death Eaters and the cause!" He turned to regard Marcus with fondness. "Now you all see why I chose Marcus for this most special mission. You would all do well to learn from his example." Voldemort's voice took on a new edge. "The boy?"

"Sentenced to Azkaban, as you ordered. The Aurors offered no resistance—the fools actually believe he is a danger to them, and blindly follow the *Minister's* orders," Marcus smiled acidly. "Potter is injured and weak, now would be the perfect time to—" The cool hand which had been caressing his cheek seized his chin, nails digging into his skin.

"You will adhere to the plan, Marcus. Your devotion is admirable, but you must be patient. I want him to suffer as I have suffered." Voldemort began to pace. "A quick death is too good for their little 'savior.' If Potter suffers, Dumbledore and the Order will suffer, and my victory will be assured. As long as he lives, they will focus their resources and energy on trying to rescue Potter, while all the while we position ourselves for our final victory; imagine the demoralization of the Light will be when they find precious Potter driven mad, begging them for death or, better yet, taking his own life. They shall be shattered, and then nothing shall stop me."

Marcus bowed his head. "Your plan is brilliant, Master. Shall I return to deal with Dumbledore?"

"Just a moment. Lucius? Bring our guest."

Lucius and another Death Eater came forward, carrying between them the petrified form of Cornelius Fudge. Voldemort smiled, crimson eyes narrowing.

"Minister, we meet again."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

TBC.


End file.
